This is the first story in a series of tales, mainly about Aedan Hawke and Fenris, called Flipping Coins elsewhere. The whole gang shows up eventually. Consider them missing scenes that build a headcanon. Not AU, though the timeline gets adjusted once or twice, to deal with Varric's narrative streamlining. Aedan is a Rogue. Fenris is Fenris. Things progress.

Dragon Age is the property of Bioware. I do not own it nor the characters. I promise to return them mostly unharmed.

Floating takes place in Act 1, two weeks or so after Fenris is recruited.

Floating

He wouldn't follow her any longer, Fenris decided.

Hawke claimed she had brought them up to Sundermount to deliver a package. She had brought them to elves. And the elves had shown them farther up the mountain. A blood mage had shown them the path. The little witch had been utterly nonchalant about the peril she placed them all in and even if Hawke had been unhappy about the idea, she had still allowed it.

Then the other witch. Who turned into a dragon. And now the blood mage was continuing on with them back to Kirkwall and Hawke and Isabela and perhaps even Varric treated her and her foolish questions with fond amusement.

Clearly, Hawke drew mages to her like mages themselves drew demons. This was no place for him. She could take care of herself, it was plain. She didn't need someone to watch her back, no matter how brightly she had grinned at him when she said it was wonderful to have a broadsword to fight with again.

Now that they were down the mountain, though, Hawke's comfort level seemed to have dropped. She had stopped listening to the blood mage and had pulled out a red kerchief to swab sweat from her face.

"It's hotter off the mountain." The witch was chattering again and Fenris glared at her.

"It is that." Hawke agreed in a short tone and drew out her waterskin. She tipped it up and Fenris could see Isabela eyeing the long white throat of their leader.

"You do look hot, Hawke." Isabela purred and the other woman flicked her kerchief at the pirate.

"Too bloody hot for that. I miss Ferelden." Varric had caught up to them and he nodded to her when she lifted her eyes to the dwarf, silently asking if he was keeping up alright.

She took off down the path again and like tails of a kite, they followed only to find her stock-still and staring out over the coast. The walls of the path had crumbled away to reveal the coast line spreading before them, perhaps a dozen feet down the cliffside.

There was a breeze here, refreshing and not smelling of fish as did the waterside in Kirkwall. Hawke stood like a statue, eyes on the water and then narrowing to look down at the not quite vertical cliff. Fenris was about to mutter something about enthrallment when she spoke.

"To the Void with this." She shrugged and slid over the leading edge of the cliff, slipping and scooting down through the sparse shrubbery clinging to the eroding soil.

"Where is she going?" Fenris spoke mostly from shock and looked at Varric. The dwarf had known Hawke the longest of the four.

"I've got no idea, Broody." Varric shrugged. The witch was picking her way down the newly broken path and Isabela had followed. They watched for a minute and then tagged along behind the women on Hawke's path.

Sweaty and now filthy, Fenris landed on the beach to find Hawke staring at the water again. "Hawke, have you lost what little sense you have?"

"Yup." Suddenly she dropped her daggers and tore at the buckles of the black leather of her jerkin, while kicking her boots off.

"Hawke?" Varric asked. This was decidedly odd behavior and Fenris started to wonder if one of the witches had cast a spell or if the rogue had struck her head.

"Yeah, just a minute." For all the world as if she wasn't stripping in front of them. Her jerkin was gone and a belt and she hooked her thumbs in her trousers. Isabela cackled then and dropped to the sand to unbuckle her own boots and the witch was shrugging out of her mail.

Hawke strode to the water's edge while shucking her rough linen undertunic and Fenris was granted a look a white shoulders with…wings drawn in grey ink and a slim waist flaring into ...He looked away as she splashed into the waves.

Merrill followed, "Ooh, its not as cold as I thought it would be."

"It's still cold as a witch's tit!" Isabella shrieked. There was a lot of female flesh on display, Fenris realized as he resolutely stared at Varric.

"I haven't been wet up to imy/i tits since before Ostagar!" Hawke shouted before she plunged into the oncoming wave.

Fenris coughed as Varric mouthed 'wet up to my…' "Bianca and I are going over there….somewhere." He waved the crossbow vaguely as he wandered away towards a rock shelf.

Fenris thought perhaps he might have to stay. Hawke didn't seem to have a shred of self-preservation. And someone had to keep an eye on the mages.