romdeau | a fishing date;

"She has fought the same fight for respect all of us Fereldans who have attained influence have," he said. He knew that at times such fights felt like uphill battles and at times it was impossible to tell the indifferent from enemies. "If mages were only in the Gallows, we'd be all too happy to grant her wish." There was something of a grunt in the statement. Aveline had been a thorn in his side on more than one occasion.

"I don't think he is, either, from everything I've heard. The few Tevinters I've met haven't done anything to assuage my viewpoint." They were troublemakers, often slavers or magisters waltzing down to the Marches believing they'd have the same free rein they had at home with disastrous results.

"I worked at a livery stable owned by friends of the family. Sometimes I think if I had been smart, I'd have stuck to horses."

"As much as I trust her, I don't think she'd be able to handle Kirkwall alone. Not as it is now." She'd lost several of her guards to the Qunari attack as it was and that was just one example of how unpredictable things could be. Had the Templars not stepped in, things would have been disastrous. She smiled. "She's just as stubborn as you can be, Sera. Don't try and deny it."

After meeting Hadriana, she was all too aware of the lengths they'd go to pursue what they believe was property. It was disgusting. She nodded in agreement. "And why would they? You don't condone slavery or their brand of politics." Her tone was carefully neutral about that term 'slavery'.

"Horses." Her tone sounded thoughtful even with the grin that was trying to force its way on her face at the mental image. "Yes, somehow I can see you doing that."

"We're barely handling Kirkwall together, however grudging the cooperation." He wasn't sure that being more amiable about it would make a difference. The city was far too big for the few forces arrayed for its defense, no matter what banner they marched under. "Maybe she and I don't enjoy looking in mirrors." It wouldn't be the first time he found himself head to head with someone because they were too alike in some respects.

"No, I don't, and I never would." He well knew the claims Anders made about the Circles. He believed them to be so patently false he wasn't going to dignify them with a mention now.

"Can you? It was such a long time ago. I haven't had the chance to ride in ages. I sometimes wonder if I'd remember how." He tilted his head slightly. "What was your first job away from the house?"

He was right about that much. Kirkwall wasn't getting any easier to handle between the factions of the city and it had nothing to do with how many times the Templars and the Guards butted heads. "True enough. I don't know how well I'd get along with someone if they were like me."

She gestured for the bottle as she thought of Lothering, her lips pursed in thought. "I was a courier first, of sorts. The town was too small for it to be a real job. And then I mostly did odd jobs on the Chantry board or helped Elder Miriam with whatever she needed." It kept her moving and it let her keep an eye on everyone in town. She could hear the gossip and know if someone was beginning to suspect her father and sister.

"I suppose it depends on how you're alike," he said. "There's something to be said for compatibility, but when it hits areas like stubbornness and duty, it can lead to some rocky relations. I believe if I were a guard or Aveline a Templar, we wouldn't butt heads at all."

He handed the bottle back to her and decided he was in the mood for another ale. He stood and carefully made his way toward the front where they were stashed. "Ale?" he asked.

"I can see that, too. Never in one place for long. It suits you." For as settled as she was in Kirkwall, he knew she wasn't in that mansion of hers much. She had admitted it herself.

"A shame for lost opportunities, then," she said lightly. "Though I'd rather you two keep your jobs. It would be so much harder to drag her out if I had to go through you or vice versa. I would have to get creative with my excuses."

After idly checking to see how much brandy they had left, she nodded. "Sure. I'm going to need to ask Isabela where she got this. It's pretty good."

She took a sip and smiled around the bottle. "Too boring to be in one place all the time. Lothering was small enough that it never felt like I was far. Running errands around Kirkwall is an entirely different story."

"Lost op...uh... We'd never have dated, if that's what you mean. No, no, no. Isn't she married?" He cleared his throat.

Digging out two of the ale bottles, he waited until he was sure she was looking and tossed her one. "It is good. I don't think I've ever had bad Antivan alcohol. If it's out there, they don't export it."

He straightened and picked his way back over toward the bench, took his seat, and worked free the stopper. "In Kirkwall it can feel like being in entirely different cities, Darktown versus Hightown, the docks, the ah, alienage." He had almost said the Foundry District, his brain fortunately kicking in before his mouth ran away with him.

She laughed. "What? No, no, I meant-- I meant as friends. That if she was a Templar or you were a Guard..." She chuckled quietly. "Yes, she's married. And if we had attempted to set the two of you up the way we had with Donnic, I would have died of laughter months ago."

She corked the brandy and set it down so she could catch the smaller bottle, turning it over in her hands. "Bad Antivan alcohol is probably their kinder way of saying poison, anyway."

Her eyes flitted out to the water with a nod. "The disparities are frightening. Darktown and Hightown are as different as night and day." The nobles became richer and the poor stayed the same. "You stand out when you go to a part of town that you don't live in because of the way you dress and carry yourself." She pulled the stopper free on her bottle. "Unless you frequent there so often that no one thinks otherwise."

"Maker's breath." He put his free hand up to his forehead, laughing. "I was thinking, 'Why is she saying this? Me and Aveline?'" He took a swig of ale and shifted the better to face her. "You set her up with her husband?"

It was fortunate he had already swallowed, or he'd have spit it at that observation. She was much funnier than he had imagined she'd be. He didn't think he'd be laughing as much as he had been off and on over the course of the evening.

"Or you can wear really shiny plate mail and not fit in anywhere." He said it lightly, except it was the truth. Whether Hightown, Lowtown, Darktown, or the docks, no one was relaxed with a Templar around.

"No, no," she chuckled. "Why would I set you up with her even if she wasn't married? That would give her excellent incentive to punch me with those gauntlets of hers." She cleared her throat, laughter still at the edges of her voice. "And at this point, I'd like to keep you with me instead, if you don't mind."

She sipped her drink so she wouldn't devolve into further chuckling and then thought better of it. It was probably the reason why this was all too funny. "She was trying to... I wish I could call it courting but it wasn't even remotely close to it. She wasn't sure how to get his attention or see how he felt." Which was a gross understatement. "Aveline asked us to clear a patrol route for her so she and Donnic could be speak. The fighting was easy enough but her courting was disastrous." She chuckled. "She almost tried to give him a traditional Ferelden dowry."

Hawke shrugged. "But isn't that the point? You're supposed to stand out. And you could always make up a reason to wander around with a different set of armor on, something lighter, if you wanted. Reconnaissance reasons."

"That was what I was wondering, yes," he said, still amused. It may have been bright enough for her to see the color in his cheeks. "I'd...ah...that's what I'd like, too. If you ever do change your mind, setting me up with someone else is the wrong way to go about it. Just so you know." It was a funny thought.

"Oh, no...wait, pigs and goats? Something like that? Sad commentary on the Templar life that I don't remember. I take it something went right in the end."

He nodded slowly, a bit of a sly light coming into his eyes. "That's exactly what I'll say if I ever get caught in Hightown dressed like a rogue on my way to a certain mansion. It's reconnaissance, you see. Templar by day, spy by night."

"Noted," she grinned. Was he blushing? She was almost certain he was. It broadened her smile at the very least when she took her next drink of ale. "I've stepped out of the matchmaking business anyway. Too messy. I'll keep to being Champion for a while instead."

She nodded. "Goats and... Was it pigs? No. Wheat, I think." Another laugh escaped her, softer now. "The woman is like another sister to me but Maker help me, nothing was working right. But the truth came out and they talked, and that was all that was needed." Donnic was a good man. He just needed to hear the truth.

"Play your cards right and the only one who'd catch you would be the dog." The corners of her lips sharpened, coupled with an almost devious look on her face. "And he'd probably let you pass."

"What with wheat, and goats, and pigs...yes, I can see how that could get a little complicated," he teased. "If more people would figure that out, about talking, it would work wonders toward solving misunderstandings."

He looked up and let out a soft breath. "One day I won't be so easy to fluster. You'll see." After another swallow of ale, he gestured with the bottle. "Oh, no. If you want visits like that, you're going to have to tell the dog to expect me. The Void has no fury like a Mabari's teeth."

"Very complicated," she protested cheekily. "But why talk when we can give strange dowry presents to people? Or just attack them? No, no, talking is vastly overrated." That was accompanied by a roll of her eyes and another sip from her drink.

"He won't hurt you, I promise. He's an excellent judge of character." And this was true, of course, but she couldn't help but rib him a little. "Bring him a bone and he'll roll right on over for you. Of course, it's another story entirely if he's actually upstairs and sleeping in the bedroom. You'll have to lavish him with attention before he lets you near me."

"Or! Attack them with strange dowry presents. Am I a genius, or am I a genius? I'm quite certain it wouldn't be difficult to goad a goat into attack mode. The moment the other party takes offense, you tell them it's a present. If you can't win them over with might, you can always confuse them." He eyed his bottle and gave it a slosh. He believed he might just be heading into slightly tipsy territory.

"Now that wouldn't be suspicious at all, the Knight-Captain in strange armor in Hightown in the middle of the night carrying...a bone." He arched a brow. "That sounds suspiciously like a test." He squinted at her. "I'm just not sure who'd actually be doing the testing, him or you."

She laughed, grateful she wasn't drinking anything right then. "I'm certain someone could manage it. But I will be absolutely certain to mention that next time I'm settling a dispute. If Kirkwall doesn't burn down around my ears, I'll commend your wonderful idea to the Knight-Commander." Who would probably think she was barking mad.

"There is a reason why he's bonded to me, you know," she teased. "Which one of us is testing you, that's the question. You'll need to choose wisely, good ser. You might only get that one shot to impress him."

"I will deny it to the end of my days, unless of course it works." He grinned and privately decided he liked her laugh. He'd have to work to hear it more often.

"Hmmm. I can see this is going to be a tricky and difficult test. I'll need to be sure that bone I bring has a lot of meat still on it. Bribery never hurts, so I'm told." He regarded her a little more seriously afterward. "How did you wind up with a Mabari? It's not as though you can just saunter on down to the market and buy one."

"If it doesn't work, then I'll do what I usually do: I'll blame Isabela and, possibly, her brandy." As if anyone would believe her. "And if that doesn't work, then you're going to hang your head and look foolish right beside me."

She smiled. "Can't go wrong with bribery. He'll adore you." Thoughtfully, she tapped her fingers against the bottle in her hand. "It was only a couple of years before we left Lothering that we found him. He was hurt and was going toe-to-toe with a bear on the outskirts of the village. Carver and I took care of the beast and carried the dog back home. Father healed him and he imprinted on me while I took care of him." She smiled wistfully. "Carver was so jealous. He was cross with me for days."

"Oh, you'd have to catch me first," he said smugly.

"Then I have a plan. Not the most romantic gift ever brought for a date. I have the excuse that you requested it personally." He smiled faintly as he listened, privately thinking they were lucky not to have been injured. Many wounded Mabari were as dangerous as any wild animal if not more so because of their cunning. Perhaps the dog sensed right away that she was someone he could relate to. No one fully understood how they made their decisions about people.

"I can imagine. I know I'd have been jealous in such a situation. They're very special dogs." He kept at the ale fairly steadily. "His former master must have been killed somewhere."

The smile she gave him could only be called wicked. "You won't get far if I have anything to say about it, especially in that armor of yours."

She chuckled. "I don't need any gifts. Besides, if it gets you into my house without your legs getting gnawed, then that's more than enough for me." And if it let him into her bed, even better.

"They are. He's such a lush most of the time that everyone questions if he's really a war hound until they provoke him. Aveline has him testing her guards once a week." Her smile was bright with mirth. "He's a sight on the battlefield."

"I can think of worse things than being chased down by a beautiful woman. Just my luck she'll be chasing me down to pin me with blame." His eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth.

"That is plenty for me, too, well worth the price of a soup bone or shank." All in all, it felt like getting off lightly. He wasn't having to go through a glowering, disapproving father. The thought of that put a hungry Mabari wanting belly scratches in a whole new light.

"I've heard rumors they have him playing diamondback at The Hanged Man." He never knew what to believe that came from that place. "If I ever have the chance to see it, I hope it's from the ally side."

"If you mentioned I was chasing you over goats and wheat, any Ferelden in Kirkwall would think something else was going on," she said slyly. "At least I would take the blame with you. You wouldn't be alone in your shame."

She snorted. "Oh, yes, diamondback. Varric's teaching him and he's surprisingly really good at it. He's going to put me to shame soon enough." How her dwarven friend was even teaching him never ceased to astound her.

"You know, you were in my house before. In Gamlen's, really, but the point remains the same. You were there and he didn't chase you out." And he'd been there to collect her sister, of all things. Wretched dog. She hadn't even thought about it before then. She always supposed it was because Bethany hadn't been afraid and hadn't put up a fight, but Mabari were good judges of character. Her brows furrowed as she took another sip of her ale. That was a thought that would stay with her until she ever found the chance to formally introduce her dog to him.

"Oh, that would start a potent rumor," he said, laughing. "We'd never outrun that one, I'm afraid."

He shook his head partially in disbelief. "I have to admit that was one I was taking with more than a few grains of salt. I knew they were smart. I had no idea they were that smart." Maybe it was just as well they didn't have thumbs.

Her next statement took him by surprise. He hadn't thought of it. Of course he remembered the day, very vividly. He remembered the dog. He had been so focused on just getting Bethany out of there without anything coming to bloodshed that beyond assessing the animal wasn't posing a threat, he hadn't spared him a thought. "He didn't even growl," he said, blinking.

"Not so long as the both of us were in Kirkwall." She gave a long suffering sigh. "No chasing, then, for your sake as well as mine."

Hawke smiled. "My dog is a prodigy, I'll have you know. He's better than Anders by now." She chuckled, raising her ale to her lips. "...Then again, everyone's better than Anders." It would be embarrassing if it wasn't downright funny to watch.

"Betrayed by my own dog," she muttered, though her voice was lacking in any real conviction. It was too puzzling. She turned to him. "Not even a growl? He really did nothing at all to stop you or even give a warning?" The dog didn't even stand Gamlen enough some days to keep from humming at the man. How could he have just let Cullen waltz in without a second thought?

"If you do, just leave the goats out of it, and we should be fine," he said. "No one has to know what it's about as I clang by with you in silent pursuit."

He chuckled. He had been about to ask. He didn't know what the apostate's skills might be at diamondback. He was surprised he had time for it at all given how many of his manifestos kept turning up all over the city.

"Nothing. Of course we knew you had a Mabari. We did our homework. When we arrived I could have sworn he was out with you. It's not as though sound doesn't carry in Lowtown. But then I saw him toward the corner near the door. He...gave me an odd look. When it was clear he wasn't going to attack, I turned my attention to everyone else."

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