You will not be able to convince me that Blackwatch isn’t actually full of children. Sure all the agents are 100% deadly and efficient at what they do, but when they ain’t on missions or not doing their god damn jobs, they all degrade to fucking 5 year olds.
Reyes is less of a commander and more of a glorified babysitter.
what is the cutest thing you've ever done in public 1 2 3 go
shit uh okay well this one time me and two of my friends were walking to town and I defaulted to walking behind them because that was what I was Trained To Do in school so as to not block hallways but they were like nope no we’re in a park c’mere so they both held hands with me either side so basically we walked around this whole park in a three-man chain occasionally skipping and no further mention of this was made by any one of us
Fenris/f!Hawke, 10k words, sfw. Fenris doesn’t have a favourite dragon breed; it falls to Hawke to remedy this. In her subsequent bid to elucidate the nature of sea dragons, she ends up uncovering a great deal more about friendship, and love, and loss.
A/N: The whole Kirkwall gang is there, with special mentions to Varric and Isabela, and guest appearances by the Arishok and Professor Frederic of Serault from Inquisition. :D Content warnings for non-graphic character injury, referenced character death, and canon-typical violence.
Many thanks to @sasskarian for looking this over and smoothing out the rough edges.
“It’s a valiant attempt to teach children about the Fade, but it’s the fear of spirits and demons that should be instilled in their minds, not the idea that they can be friends,” Fenris says between sips of the dry Nevarran white they found in her cellar. “And the part with the desire demon was entirely age-inappropriate. It’s a wonder the Chantry hasn’t banned this book.”
Ensconced in her armchair, Hawke is running her toes up and down the back of the mabari curled up at her feet, watching him gesture as he speaks. “Tut, tut, elf. It was my favourite. My father stole it from the Circle library before eloping with my mother when she was pregnant with me. You don’t know half the favours I had to do for Orsino to lend me the Circle’s copy and—” she bursts into peals of laughter when he turns to stare at her, slack-jawed, “—Maker, you should see your face.”
“Hawke,” he protests, but there’s no bite to it.
“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d fall for it,” she replies, biting down a fresh fit of giggles. “In fact, I’m almost insulted you did.”
He laughs into his glass. “I did think it was much too treacly for you. Not to mention wanting dragons.”
“Well, that’s a given. Who wouldn’t want a dragon?” she quips, teasing another laugh out of him.
It took no little effort to coax Fenris into reading a children’s book. A Slave’s Life was too big a step up from the simple sentences Hawke would scribble down for him: the prose that she remembered as spare and parse suddenly wasn’t, and the Tevene that peppered the text—what with its quirks and arbitrary spellings—had him storming out of the estate before long, pride chafed raw.
It was her mother who suggested children’s literature. The few picture books Leandra had held onto in hopes of grandchildren had all been lost in Lothering, so Hawke dug a yellowed copy of Martha’s Adventures in the Fade out of the two-copper bin of a Lowtown second-hand store and snickered at it until the owner had her buy the Maker-damned thing or leave. “Here, we can even make up for your lost childhood memories,” she told Fenris, and though shame had tugged his gaze down, he raised his face then.
“Have it your way,” he relented, but his eyes were soft.
Varric would never let her live it down if he found out, but between the deep rumble of Fenris’s voice and his snide remarks, she caught herself enjoying the stupid thing more than she’d care to admit. Few evenings turn out half as pleasant, sitting shoulder to shoulder, fingers bumping and brushing to turn pages. When Fenris clamped his hand around her wrist to keep her away from the book, she retaliated by twining their fingers together, and he made no effort to pull free until the end of the last page.
It’s been just a little bit harder to breathe since.