Hi there! Welcome to my very first fiction! This is based around Hawke and her relationship with both Anders and Fenris. It follows the main plot points of DA2, but will create it's own scenes where necessary/wanted (e.g. Some of the game dialogue will match/quest outcomes will be the same, but some other aspects will be different). This is because my particular Hawke has her particular story, so things may differ or be included which are not evident in the game. I'm sure you get the gist by now, so I hope you enjoy!

The Hanged Man at two hours past sunset every Friday night was tradition. No matter what was happening, bar a journey that took them out of Kirkwall, everyone turned up, played cards and drank their sorrows away. Hawke insisted it was to 'build strength', but most were suspicious it was just so she could beat them at cards and take their coin. There was nothing she loved more than good competition and the sound of coins slapping onto the table, even after coming back from the Deep Roads a rich woman.

Varric set the long wooden table out for eight, sighing a little as he looked at the lone ninth chair in the corner. Hawke would darkly glance at the chair every time she walked in and always chose the seat around the table that faced it. She liked to torture herself by remembering Bethany was no longer there playing with them, like a kind of self-inflicted emotional blackmail. There was no helping her either; she was as stubborn as Merrill was innocent. Varric ordered a round for the empty table and sat at its head, waiting for the group to wander in and begin playing.

Aveline was first, as always, dead on time. She sat next to Varric complaining about a lack of discipline as the first few minutes ticked by. Sebastian came next, with Anders following a good distance behind him, then Merrill explaining how she took a wrong turn, then brooding Fenris and finally Hawke and Isabela chatting animatedly about a fight they had been in earlier in the day.

"Ha, those mercenaries were a joke. Honestly, they see two women and think they can stick one in us. Why do none of them notice the large weapons we just happen to walk around with?"

"Boobs, Hawke. Boobs. They see boobs, and all other features become a blur. They're boob-centric , but they realised quick enough once I sliced one of them through." Isabela said with a satisfied smirk, taking her place beside Aveline, as Hawke placed herself between Isabella and Fenris. Fenris and Hawke exchanged a quick look, Hawke's lips twitching into what could be called half a smile, before settling and turning to Varric.

"So are you all ready to get your asses kicked by yours truly?" Hawke held her chin high and pointed to herself while looking around the table.

"If by yours truly, you mean actually mean Varric Tethras, which in that case I'm sure you're all prepared to part with your coin tonight."

"HA, Varric, you're good but not that good, your wily dwarf ways won't be useful tonight. I have a master plan!"

"Is that right Rivani? Well we'll see how that goes. And remember that footsies under the table have been banned, so you can't use that anymore."

"Thank the Maker, I nearly had a heart attack last time."

"Sebastian, I told you I was aiming for Anders. I can't help if I got lost on my way over and accidently touched your Holy Parts. Though they weren't lacking that's for sure."

"Holy Parts? Are you talking about the funny little face he has on his belt? Anders said it was supposed to be Andraste, she looks rather cute on a belt doesn't she?"

"No, Merrill, she didn't mean his belt," Aveline sighed and patting her gently on the shoulder. "I'm sure Isabela will fill you in on the details, she's had enough experience in 'Holy Parts' to write a novel. If she knew how to write."

"Now that's not fair, you're right about the experience, but know how to do write good things, thank you," the table roared with laughter as Isabela cheekily winked at the Guard-Captain. "But seriously, now you mention it, a novel would be a brilliant idea. How about 'Getting Dirty in Darktown – The Tales of a Pirate Queen's Sexcapades'"

"Sounds completely revolting," Aveline said with a smile, while Sebastian nodded in agreement. She raised her handle. "A toast to Isabela, the Little Slattern That Could!"

"Hear hear!" Hawke cried, banging her jug on the table dramatically and promptly emptying it, "Let's play already! I am saving up for a new sword, so all your coin falling into my lap tonight will be rather well timed."

"50 silver each to start the game. Try and even the score for some of the poorer folks," Varric announced as he dealt the first hand and nodding pointedly at Anders

"Oh Varric, you know how to treat a good friend, it's much appreciated," Anders said overdramatically while raising his hands into a beggars hold. "I may be a poor man but I am a good man-"

"Oh here we go, another lecture on the Mages clinic," Fenris growled while taking a large gulp from his tankard.

"SOME of us tend to think of others Fenris. I do not judge you for being a self-centred, brooding, whiny little elf," Anders said calmly while placing a few coins into the centre of the table.

"Ooo this is going to be a good one!" Isabela laughed delightedly as the rest of the table carried on with their hand, placing coins or cards on the table. This happened at least once every card night until someone blew the whistle.

"I, on the other hand, find it rather easy to judge an abomination. One who fights for mage rights while being the very thing the Templars are trying to destroy."

"Ohhh, an abomination comment, very original Fenris. Will you compare me to a magister next? How about how I'm one step away from Blood Magic?"

"I don't need to mention the truth, Mage. Anyone with half a brain," Fenris glanced darkly at Merrill who was luckily peering into her drink, "Can see it is where mages are heading in general, let alone the Almighty King of Mages himself." Isabela watched the two parry with words in fascinated silence, while in boredom at the lack of action in the round Aveline and Varric started to discuss quietly the Cartas' increased influence in Darktown. Hawke just ignored them completely and struck up a conversation with Sebastian and Merrill about an upcoming task.

"How can you even say such generalisations? You know good Mages who are neither Magisters nor Blood Mages – I'm not using Merrill here – and yet you lump us all in with the minority?" Anders voice began to rise.

"Since I joined this merry party I have seen nothing but corrupted, weak Mages trying to get a hold of the power they so desperately crave. So what mages are these?"

"Oh, I don't know," Anders said, dripping with sarcasm, "Perhaps Bethany?"

Suddenly the table went silent. Anders eyes widened as he realised what he just said. Hawke, who was in the middle of a discussion on group fighting techniques with Sebastian, looked down at the floor, gripping her tankard with white knuckles.

Varric cleared his throat, "Now, now boys, lets simmer down -"

"Bethany?" Fenris, so aggravated by Anders he had not noticed the tense atmosphere and Varric's interruption, "I thought you were trying to convince me of Mages who WEREN'T weak?"

Isabela was no longer smiling as she was before, she was looking toward Hawke with increasing anxiety as Hawke gripped her tankard so tightly the cheap metal began to compress under the strain.

Fenris, breathing heavily in anger finally looked around the table at the stunned silence and realised his mistake. He paled and dared not glance at Hawke, suddenly too close beside him.

"What did I say about talking about... About her?" She said in a quiet, strained voice.

Anders looked distressed, "I'm- I'm sorry Ophelia. It just popped out, I was getting riled up and I didn't realise..." He trailed off, looking at her face which had risen to meet his. She was a tough woman when she wanted to be (which was all the time). He had rarely seen her smile, yet her sharp wit was never too far away, and her armour plated body and massive one handed sword struck fear into all who crossed her path. Only on rare occasions had he seen her let down her guard and talk to him as what he imagined the young, carefree Ferelden girl used to be like before her family started falling apart. And even with the strong jaw and even stronger frown, her delicate face was beautiful. Anders often watched her as she barked orders with a fond half smile, wishing he could spend more time with someone so interesting. But what he saw in her face now was a mixture of despair and anger, her bright grey eyes welling with tears she quickly blinked away.

"My sister was not WEAK!" She stood up and threw the tankard down on the table and it flew towards Merrill who shrieked and ducked quickly. "How dare EITHER of you speak of her! If anyone was weak it was me! I couldn't protect her from the Templars. I was the one who failed." Her voice cracked slightly as she put both hands on the table and looked downwards. "I told you, no one is to speak of her on these nights. These nights are where I get drunk and FORGET about that shit."

"Hawke, I didn't mean... It came out wrong." Fenris made the effort to place his hand on her balled up fists but she pulled them away

"Don't touch me." She said with slight disgust. "I know you don't like Mages, but I thought, at least Bethany... It doesn't matter. I've had enough for tonight. I'm sorry Isabela; I'll have to clean you out next week. Thanks for the drinks Varric."

And with a quick slide of her chair, she swiftly left the room, leaving everyone stunned.

"Maker, I don't think I've seen Hawke use that much emotion before," Varric said shaking his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the first round? You couldn't wait until I had at least removed the guard-captain here of some of her coin and dignity?"

Aveline huffed and shook her head in amused disbelief, "Fenris, you've really done it this time. I don't know if you can make it up to her by just brooding handsomely towards her like you have in the past, I'm afraid" Fenris threw back the rest of his handle and reached across for Merrills', who passed it eagerly towards him.

Sebastian pushed his along to Fenris as well, "I'll be off then, early sermon in the morning," he hastily and awkwardly shuffled out of the room. Aveline followed with a mutter about setting up new routes, and Isabela offered to walk Merrill home quickly after. Varric was left with two depressed men and no whiskey; Fenris had taken his too.

"Well, Blondie, Elf. As much of a HOOT this has been, I'm going to call it a night. Blondie, I'll probably see you tomorrow. Elf, I don't think I'll be seeing you until after that hangover has passed. Both of you need to head home and get some sleep." And with that he herded them both out into the hallway; the usually eternally open door to Varric's abode was officially closed.

Fenris looked at the mage standing awkwardly beside him, growled and headed downstairs to sit himself comfortably at the bar for the rest of the night. Anders, stomach still twisting with guilt, decided finally to head over to the Hawke Estate and sort this mess out. He really needed to stop rising to these stupid heated debates he and Fenris had. Neither of them would ever see the others side, and so it was just a ridiculous game to see who could last the longest before someone had to shut them up (which was usually Hawke). He walked swiftly past Fenris who had already ordered two drinks, and headed up to Hightown.