A year after the Inquisitor defeated Corypheus, Bram was still doing research for the Inquisition, and Lace was still helping him. The Inquisitor was wonderful; she made sure that Lace got plenty of other assignments and kept her almost as busy as ever. Yet Lace tended, more often than not, to end up back with Bram. Her official station was wherever his campsite happened to be. It was probably not the most efficient way to run things, but Lace wasn't going to complain. This way they both got what they wanted - buckles, adventure, and each other.

Bram was not quite as thrilled to have her gone so often, but he was happy for her. If she was being honest, it was all rather silly; one day he was going to return to his former life, and they would permanently part ways. In the back of her mind, Lace had always known this could never last, as much as she might wish it would. Though at the rate at which she was learning about History Through Buckles, maybe she could go to his university to give lectures.

It was a warm summer day when she returned from her latest mission. Bram and his crew had been set up in the Emerald Graves, which had been an adventure all its own. Not her kind - he and the Inquisitor had spent many hours discussing arrangements with the local elves. Colette's presence had indubitably helped as well. Nevertheless, the fervor with which Bram had sworn he held as much respect for elven history as any other race's had been heartwarming. He'd also been adorably excited to learn all the proper customs to follow when handling elven artifacts. It was a very touchy subject, poking around in the Graves (though any actual Graves were entirely off limits), but Bram appeared to have impressed everyone with his honest appreciation and respect for the elves.

He had certainly impressed Lace. It was uncommon to meet a noble who held such high regard for a race that was often only seen in noble houses as lowly servants. If he wasn't careful he was going to make Lace fall in love with him, and that would be most inconsiderate. There was absolutely no point in her becoming any more attached to him than she already was… just as there was no benefit to her acknowledging that she was already lost.

It didn't help matters that Bram was waiting for her at the gate, all dressed up in his finest clothes. He held a bouquet of flowers, because he was hopelessly romantic sometimes.

"Welcome back, darling!" he exclaimed. Depending on the day, their terms of endearment were given in different languages. She'd almost forgotten that today was Common day. Pity, she'd learned some more Qunlat words from Iron Bull, and these she could actually teach Bram without him dying from shock.

Scout Harding definitely did not blush when he pressed the flowers into her hand and bent over to kiss her cheek. They'd been doing this for over a year now, so it would be ridiculous to suggest she still sometimes colored at his sweetness. The flowers were very lovely, though. More to add to her book of pressings (a gift from Bram after their mutual education on herbology - his teachings theoretical and hers practical).

As was customary, once she'd dropped off her travel pack they headed off into the forest for some privacy. Nothing untoward - they simply enjoyed stealing some time alone. Once, after a particularly dangerous mission, she had felt like being untoward. But Bram was an old-fashioned noble, and he had blushingly deferred any untowardness until after marriage. It had disappointed her, for she knew that they would therefore never be untoward with each other, but such was life. He was still fun to pin to the ground and make out with.

But today there was no scandalous behavior. Bram took her hand once they were out of sight of the camp, and she stole his stupid-looking hat so she could admire his ruffled hair. He seemed to have some destination in mind, for once, and when she questioned him he blushed and mumbled, "I, uh, we found, um… while we were excavating I saw a lovely place by the river, and it made me think of you."

Laughing, Lace tugged him in the opposite direction. "If you're trying to take me to the river, you gotta go this way."

"Really?" he asked, looking around in confusion, "But I thought- oh, yes, I see. I would be lost without you, Lace."

She snorted. "All the time."

"No, I meant-..." His silence lasted long enough for her to look up at him. As soon as their gaze met his eyes darted away. "Uh, yes, precisely. I would get lost on the way to sleep, I should think."

Her laughter rang out among the trees.

It really was a beautiful spot. She'd been past here several times but never really thought about it. Maybe he wasn't as hopelessly unobservant as he seemed.

His boots and socks were laid out on a sunny rock, as were hers. He had tripped and fallen into the river (thankfully it was just a shallow stream at that point) and she'd gone splashing in after him. She'd laid him out in the sun, too, because he would definitely manage to catch a cold in summer. But then he made it look so comfortable there in the sunny grass that she'd decided to join him.

Her head rested on his soaked arm as they stared up into the trees.

"Lace… I… my cousin is getting married," he said suddenly, startling her from her semi-dozing state, "We are quite close. It will only be a week or two, I think."

A week or two to be told to dump the heretic dwarf and find a suitable match , filled in Lace's cynical mind.

"That will be lovely," she told a tree branch.

"Yes, I expect so. My mother has suggested I bring an old- well, she isn't old, she is my age - acquaintance as my guest."

"I take it your mother would prefer this lady be more than an acquaintance?"

"Ah-... Yes," Bram answered miserably. Lace's eyes absolutely did not water, though the leaves inexplicably became much harder to distinguish.

"I see," she said quietly, because there was nothing else to say.

"Yes, quite… perturbing. I know you won't like it, but I believe it is the best course of action."

He seemed to be waiting for something, but she was in no state to respond. This was the beginning of the end. She was going to lose him. It had always been their destiny, but it nevertheless stung to face it. Damn nobility and their addiction to superiority.

"... What do you think?" he asked meekly. Oh, she was not going to say what she thought.

"I understand, Bram. You have to please your family."

"What? I do not think they will be pleased at all…"

"Doing what your mother wants?" This man could sometimes be infuriatingly confusing.

"No, I-... Oh. I didn't say what I was thinking," he admitted, embarrassed. "I know it would be most unpleasant for you, but could I perhaps bring you as my guest? I believe it is high time you become acquainted with my family."

He- wait-... Bram wanted to introduce her to everyone he knew? Lace blinked up at the gently swaying leaves. Her heart performed acrobatics. He wanted her to meet his parents?

Her silence seemed to unnerve him, for he hastily continued, "I know it is a great deal to ask, especially as you would have to be away from your duties for so long. You may also receive… some unpleasantries. It is truly selfish of me to ask, I know, it is just…" She saw him turn his head out of the corner of her eye, and did the same to meet his gaze. Maker, she loved him.

"Bram, of course I'll come with you," she whispered. He reached out and rested a hand on her cheek.

"Thank you," he breathed, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone.

Two years ago, Lace would have never expected to be doing this. Once she'd been hired on for the Inquisition, she'd kind of put any thoughts of romance on hold. It was hard to find a suitor when everyone was your subordinate and you were being sent all over Thedas anyway. And she had definitely not imagined being in a relationship with a professor. They tended not to go for the scout types, any more than scouts tended to go for academic sorts. But Bram was different. He wasn't the standard human-centered noble. As soon as Colette had mentioned that she had fully trusted him to do right by her, Lace's interest in him had increased tenfold. And he was genuinely interested in learning about everything. He had eagerly heeded her survival advice, hunting tips, even her opinions on the ruins she had seen in her travels.

"Ma vhenan," he said softly, bringing her attention back to the present, "I never dreamed I could be so fortunate as to have someone like you in my life."

The announcer regarded Bram coolly as they approached, and gave Lace a positively icy look.

"Ser, I am afraid your… escort is not on the list."

"I'm quite sure I informed Aunt Clentinia," Bram said, his brow furrowing. "My companion is Lieutenant Scout Harding, highly esteemed member of the Inquisition."

The man looked at his scroll. Lace hadn't even known it was possible to look that spiteful towards parchment.

"Ah. Lady Harding of the Inquisition. I see."

" Lieutenant Scout Harding," Bram corrected, his chest puffing out a little. He was really cute when he got so defensive of her.

She had practiced quite a bit for this style of dancing, and her previous experience left her pretty light on her feet. Once or twice she even got to explain to Bram how to perform a step. It was rather satisfying, but not as much as the looks of disdain, horror, and surprise she was receiving from the other guests. Bram, however, did not seem to be enjoying it at all.

"I am so sorry for my family's treatment of you," he whispered as they walked out of the ballroom, her arm hooked up and over his. It was an awkward position, but worth the contact.

"Don't worry about it. It was really funny watching your great-aunt's face."

"They have no right to look down on you. If anything they should be thanking you!"

"Did you really expect anything different?"

He sighed and looked away, to the crowd. "I had hoped they would be better mannered."

"Oh, they've only been mildly condescending in person. I don't care."

" I do. You deserve so much better," he said, frowning.

"... Had I been sent to the Chantry, you would have certainly not received any offspring, nor an advantageous marriage! Therefore you should surely be pleased I have found happiness, not disappointed in some fabricated failure!" Lace had never heard Bram so… fiery. She was becoming quite thankful she had decided to snoop. All these silly decorative nooks and crannies were pretty handy for a little dwarf scout to hide in, even if she couldn't hear what the other members of the argument were saying.

"By no means is this a petty infatuation! She means everything to me. … You can no longer threaten me. There is no greater threat than parting from her. I suspect the Inquisition's espionage network is superior to any professional you may hire." Then there was the slam of a door and brisk footsteps nearing her hiding spot.

As Bram stormed past her, unawares, Lace decided it was time for him to meet her parents.

Lace braced for impact. Contessa came charging, her massive paws tearing up the ground. Bram flinched away as Mabari met Dwarf in a barking, laughing collision.

"That is… a massive canine," he commented nervously, clutching tightly to the reins of his horse.

"Oh, she's a sweetheart, don't worry. She only eats people when I let her," she teased, enjoying Bram's horrified expression.

"Lace! You're back!"

Lace sat up, gently pushing the massive Mabari off of her, to see Mother running towards them.

Contessa knew when she was beaten; she moved aside to allow her master to be hugged by the Alpha Matron.

Eventually Mother let go, or at least leaned back enough to look at Bram, who was awkwardly shifting on his feet.

"So, this is the boy, is he?"

"Mother!" Lace exclaimed, habitually embarrassed, "This is Professor Bram Kenric."

"Ah, yes, and I am indeed 'the boy', madam," he said, adorably uncomfortable but still trying to be humorous. Maker, Bram was so cute.

The Harding house was not built to accommodate a Human. Bram spent dinner with his knees far closer to his ears than he was used to, but that seemed to be the least of his concerns. Contessa quickly understood both Lace's affection for and her parents' acceptance of this stranger, and therefore decided she liked him too. Thus the majority of Bram's meal was eaten with a huge Mabari head resting on his lap. Impressively he even managed to eat the majority of his food, despite her best efforts.

Bram was also terrified by the broad-shouldered dwarves happily chatting with him. Lace's parents were wonderfully trusting of their daughter, prompting them to greet her suitor with open arms rather than drawn axes. Yet Bram seemed unaware of this; he appeared to be utterly terrified of making a poor impression on these people who had clearly already accepted him.

"Thank you for the delicious meal, madam," he murmured, bowing his head respectfully.

"It was my pleasure! We're so happy to finally meet you - it's the least we can do."

Lace could tell he was winding up for some more wearying flattery, so she reached over to rest her hand on his drool-drenched knee. "What do you say I show you the lay of the land?" she offered, wanting some time alone with him as much as anything. His cuteness had reached a critical level which needed to be remedied with a little time away from prying eyes.

"I'll show him, lass. You can help your mother," Father rumbled, rising to his feet. Back when Lace lived here, it was usually Father who helped Mother while Lace tended the sheep. Instantly she became suspicious of his motives. But Mother was on his side, so there was really no winning. When Bram passed Lace he looked at her as though it was the last time he would ever see her. Poor dear.

Despite a mutual desire for parents and child to spend more time together, Lace and Bram were forcefully sent out to take their midday meal upon a nearby hillock. It had been one of her favorite places to visit, as a child. Still quite a lovely spot, especially with such charming company.

"Your parents are wonderful," Bram commented, shifting the heavy basket from one hand to another for the hundredth time. He'd insisted on carrying it, clarifying upon her annoyed comment that he knew she was more capable than he to lift the load. Apparently he simply wished to not constantly require her assistance.

"Yeah, I love 'em," Lace replied, scratching Contessa's ear as the Mabari stuck her head under her master's hand.

"Very charming people," Bram continued thoughtfully, almost tripping on a rock. Lace's steadying hand on his elbow helped save their lunch. "They've been so kind to me, particularly so if one considers the length of our acquaintance. Are they… have they always been, ah, so welcoming of your, um…"

"Suitors?" Lace filled in, smiling. Bram swallowed and nodded.

"I never liked any of the folks as much as you," she answered playfully. Bram nervously adjusted his slipping hat and switched his grip on the basket again.

"Still, you must have introduced some of them to your parents," he pressed.

"How many suitors do you think I had?" she laughed, "I wasn't exactly the most sought-after girl in the valley." Upon his anguished expression, Lace took pity on Bram. "I brought home one or two. My parents really like you."

The dear man was so relieved. "I am very happy to hear that," he said, "I do very much want to foster a healthy relationship with your family." Maker, he was such a sweetheart. Lace smiled up at him and pointed him to a good spot for their picnic. He looked almost as relieved to put down the basket.

Together they unpacked the bread and jam, and Bram even managed not to stab himself. Contessa settled down not too far away, sprawled out in the sun. Though Lace leaned back on her elbows, enjoying the warmth, Bram remained sitting with a stiff back.

"Lace…" he began, fiddling with the bread in his hands, "Do you think I could find gainful employment with the Inquisition scouting forces?"

"Thought you already had," she said through a jam-heavy bite of bread.

"Well, to a certain extent, but I am hardly on the… cutting edge, as it were. I was thinking I could possibly assist with the preparation of draughts or the like. That would be a more useful skill for the front line."

"Not many buckles in potion-making," she commented, squinting at a path she used to take the sheep on in the summer.

"N-no, certainly not, but it may allow…" The despair in his sigh made her look at him. He was staring forlornly at his morsel of bread, turning it this way and that in the sunshine. Slowly he turned his gaze to hers, and his eyes were an endearing mixture of adoration and worry.

"I do not wish to be a hindrance to you, Lace," he explained quietly, "I am sure that being stationed so far from the action is not what you desire."

Lace shrugged and crammed the rest of her food into her mouth. "'s not bad. The Inquisitor still gets me out in the thick of things. It's worth it to see your cute face at night." His cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. They had long since taken to sharing a bed on the nights she was in his camp, even though they had yet to… fully put it to use. Given how embarrassed he was by literally sleeping together, it seemed almost dangerous to his health to go further.

"Still, if I were useful in a more… present sense, a, ah, more active and real sense, perhaps I could simply be posted with you. That would spare you having to constantly travel back to our position."

"Sure, but I don't mind. Besides, there's no one better suited to do your job. No point in wasting all your talent making healing draughts."

"That is very generous of you to say. It is just that I…" His eyes darted away, to the gently swaying grass. Slowly he reached up and removed his hat, placing it carefully atop the basket. Then he seemed to make up his mind, because all of a sudden he put aside his bread and pulled his legs under to kneel upon his knees. He held out his hands with almost a sense of urgency, prompting Lace to mirror his pose and take his hands. In the pit of her stomach she had an inkling as to what was about to happen, but she didn't dare assume…

"Scout Lieutenant Lace Harding," he began in a rush, and she knew , "Will you marry me?"

His mouth opened again, presumably to ramble on about his reasoning. That would only serve to dampen the moment, so Lace took matters - and his face - into her own hands. He toppled backwards as the full weight of his fiancée struck him. Somehow, he didn't seem to mind her laying atop him as they kissed.

"Is that, um, will you…?" he breathed when she paused to catch her breath.

There was only one answer to that. She loved him, truly and deeply. When she was happy, her first instinct was to share it with him. When she was upset, he was the first person she turned to. On the rare occasions they were afforded the time, they would spend hours talking with a genuine interest about all manner of things. Despite their disparate backgrounds, Lace had never felt more closely connected with anyone as she did with him.

"Yes, Professor Bram Kenric, I will marry you," she whispered, trailing her fingers along his smooth-shaven cheeks. Bram released his held breath with an overjoyed laugh.

"Thank you, milady!" he exclaimed, holding her tightly against his chest, "I swear I will be the best husband I can be for you, my darling Lace."