A/N - OK, so absolutely no one should be surprised that I've been bitten by the Dragon Age: Inquisition bug. Did I mention that I clearly have a thing for Grey Wardens (and apparently quasi-Grey Wardens)? There's a definite pattern here.

Also, I would swear that Taylor Swift's "This Love" was written for this pairing. Maybe, TayTay is a closet Dragon Age fan? Take a listen!

Disclaimer: I, in no way shape or form, own Dragon Age or its characters. All belong to Bioware.

Dread. That was what she recognized in him, written in bold strokes on his features and the nervous twitch of his fingers. A menacing Grey Warden, muscular and capable, yet Blackwall was staring at the beast in the stable pen like it was the next archdemon, and she had to repress the giggle that threatened to bubble out.

"That monster cannot be safely ridden. Wouldn't you prefer one of the horses?"

She shook her head, "No. My dracolisk is far more suited for the sands of the coast. Besides, riding a horse is too benign for me...I like a challenge. Just don't tell Dennet I admitted that. He may just quit the Inquisition all together."

He looked unconvinced, so she reached out to comfort him, brushing her hand against his forearm. Her words were quiet, meant to soothe, "Trust me, please?"

He sighed, nodding, and she had to restrain from skipping over to the animal. She led her steed out of the stall by its bridle, and climbed easily into the familiar saddle. The smile crept onto her face effortlessly, and he begrudgingly returned one of his own. He muttered, "This is madness…"

Laughter, careless and free, finally let loose, "Of all the crazy things that we have faced and will face on this journey...you take issue with a dracolisk?"

She reached a hand down, beckoning, and he took it, placing a reluctant foot in the stirrup while delicately swinging his broad frame behind her. He settled in, and she tried her hardest to contain both herself and the animal. Sharing a saddle with a man she desired was almost too much temptation, especially when that same man had turned her down. But, she was nothing if not tenacious, so when Blackwall suggested riding together, she couldn't resist the offer, even when her clearer mind told her that she should.

His hands settled on her hips, and her fingers tightened around the reins as his voice came over her shoulder, so close to her ear. "I'm not sure we'll survive this trip to the ruin, but at least I will enjoy it."

Blackwall was an honorable man, and a horrible flirt, which made his refusal all the more excitingly bothersome, in a good way. He knew exactly the effect all this physicality was having on her, and from where she was sitting, he clearly wasn't immune, either. Turnabout was fair play, and she squirmed against him, just enough to get comfortable. A tiny groan escaped him, and he tried and failed to pass it off as a cough. Smirking at the reaction, she offered, "We both will. Now, hold on..."

Footsteps interrupted her morose, pitiful chasing of happier memories, and she turned her gaze away from the stable below, back inside through the doorway which led to her suite. The dwarf was standing there, and she crossed the balcony to enter, coming to greet him, "Varric...to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Just thought I'd check in on you..."

Pity company was the last thing she wanted, so she rattled off a response hoping it would be convincing enough. "I'm fine."

His eyes glanced over her as he moved to take a seat in one of the chairs at her desk. "You don't look fine."

Sighing, she shook her head, as apparently he wasn't going to take the hint easily. She moved over to the desk, taking a seat across from him as she shrugged, "Really? Maybe we should have one of the healers check your eyesight."

He chuckled, "The easiest way to piss off any archer worth his salt is to question his eyes. I'd be offended, Inquisitor, if I wasn't totally positive that your desire was to do just that."

He leveled a gaze at her, and she knew she was found out. "You're not fine, Evelyn. I've seen that blank expression of betrayal before, and I'm worried for you."

She had a snappy retort all ready, until his voice cracked out of concern, and suddenly, all the fire went out of her. "It's not been an easy few days."

He nodded, and she continued, "So, have you come to tell me about the stupid mistake I've made? How I've risked the Inquisition's success over one lying scum of a man because I took him to my bed?"

The dwarf's eyebrows puckered together, a look of question on his features, "What jackass did that?"

"Vivienne."

His disbelieving laugh almost brought her to chuckle. "Well, I always thought she was a bit of a frosty bitch, so I can't say I'm totally shocked."

"True. But, I'm sure she's not alone in her thoughts, it's just that she's the only one ballsy enough to voice them."

He shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not here to judge your decisions. You're the Inquisitor, and the one who has to try and navigate this entire wretched mess. Your mistake, if you want to call it that, was finding love in the midst of it all. But, I've been a friend to someone in a similar situation, so I thought I might be a sympathetic ear, if you'd like."

Taking a deep breath, she tried to release the knot that sat painfully in her chest, and found that nearly impossible. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to vent, as she knew that holding it in wasn't doing her any favors. Besides, in this case, her curiosity was going to get the better of her. "Hawke?" she questioned.

He nodded, a glimmer appearing in his eyes that she recognized as fondness, "Who else could it be? Both of you really know how to pick winners in the men department."

Resisting the urge to throw a book at him, she grumbled, "If this is your idea of being helpful, I'll pass."

He put his hands up in mock surrender, "Sorry, sorry. I'll try to stop with the teasing. But, my joke doesn't make the comparison any less valid. Two powerful women, fierce and determined to save people from great danger, both in love with men who made terrible, life-altering mistakes..."

That tidbit of knowledge, unfortunately accurate and previously unthought, caused her to squirm. "Were you here to make me feel better? Because that idea surely doesn't."

He looked slightly confused, so she explained further. "Let me put it this way. When I first heard of the debacle that was Kirkwall, I didn't have the highest opinion of Hawke's...choices."

"Ah…" he nodded. "The alliance with the mages or the fact that she let Anders live?"

"Both. But especially the latter..." her head hung in deference, voice raw with pain, "I called her a traitor and a murderer. I argued that she was as guilty as Anders himself, because she let the man go."

"Well...you were hardly the only person who thought that way."

She looked at him, eyes brimming with unshed tears, "No...but I wager I'm the only one that is now facing the same terrible fate."

"Evelyn…"

The floodgates broke, and she couldn't restrain the deluge of emotions, the knot finally unraveling and recoiling like a snake as she yelled, "I am a hypocrite, Varric! The worst kind, a spectator who sat on the outside looking in, while criticizing a woman who, at the minimum, was trying to keep a city from destroying itself. And now, the Maker has seen it fit to teach me a valuable lesson in how easily you can become the one that you have condemned."

A blur, her desk became a watery swirl as she allowed herself the most basic of releases, a moment of weakness that the Inquisitor shouldn't have, but desperately needed. Eyes down, she couldn't bring herself to look at her friend, but a sensation of warmth found her, and she leaned into it. A strong shoulder, broad chest, and she buried her face against him, the smell of wood oil prevalent. For a few moments, she lost herself in the comfort, his dwarven frame providing the perfect height for her to rest her head while seated. Eventually, she quieted, and he took the chance at humor. "So the mighty Inquisitor is actually human…"

She pulled away, shaking her head, "I'm surprised you let me anywhere near your shooting shoulder."

They laughed, and he offered, "Feeling better?"

"A little…"

"For what it's worth, there is not a single damn person in this entire fortress who envies your position. All of us were taken by Blackwall's lies, but only one of us had her heart broken in the process."

"I just hope that I've made the right decision by bringing him back to Skyhold to face judgement. I just couldn't see him hang in Val Royeaux…"

Varric nodded, and she pushed on, "But, can I easily throw him in a cell to rot for the rest of his pathetic days? I have no idea what I am going to do, Varric. The only thing I know, that I can promise and swear to the Maker, is that I cannot take the sword to his neck myself. I simply cannot."

"There is a worse fate, the same one that Hawke bestowed upon Anders. Pardon him, and it will be a punishment worse than death. He's carried this lie close to his chest for years. Let him carry it now, in the light, where every man can decide. Why should the burden of judging him fall solely to you?"

"I am the Inquisitor. I must judge him."

"Then let him suffer, Evelyn, where everyone can see. I'm not Hawke, so I cannot tell you why she made the choice that she did. But, what I can tell you is that she believed death was an easy out for Anders. That idiot not only started a war, but he destroyed their relationship and the trust between them. If she had killed him, Anders would never have had to deal with the consequences, would have never seen the disaster he brought about. He would never know the pain, the absolute anguish that he caused the woman he supposedly adored."

"I envy her, Varric, that she could be so strong to deal with all of that. If I had known this was coming, I would have begged more of her counsel. I asked her a few questions about Anders when she was here, before Adamant. But, you know them both. Do you think she made the right decision?"

"I think she made the choice she had to live with. Just like you will."

She tried to keep her voice steady, more emotions threatening to burst forth, "Even if I pardon him, Blackwall is resigned to his death, ready to give Orlais the justice it seeks. I took that from him, and if he lives, he will hate me for it."

"Then let him hate you. I witnessed Anders practically dare Hawke to end his life, and somehow, that ass is still breathing. So, be glad that at least Blackwall had the common decency to get someone else to do it."

She shook her head, "But, I cannot force him to live, Varric. If I free him, he could just as easily end it himself."

"I can't tell you what to do, Evelyn. But, it doesn't matter if Orlais, or you, or Blackwall himself, takes his life, it will not bring back the countless that have been lost due to his greed and cowardice. Let him live. Let his guilt consume him while he makes whatever attempt he can at reparations. Don't carry your lover's death on your conscience."

"I'm hardly a saint, Varric. But if I pardon him, I share his crimes."

"If you care for him half as much as I think you do, that will not matter to you. Just like it did not matter to Hawke. Tell me, if the roles were reversed, do you think that Blackwall would watch you hang in the gallows of Val Royeaux?"

Instantly, the word passed her lips, "Never."

"So, how can he really hate you for interfering? He may be angry, but he can blame himself. He left you, without any explanation. I understand that he had good reasons for doing so, but he was a fool for thinking that you would accept it, that somehow, you would not look for him."

The sound of someone coming up the stairs interrupted her, and a guard came into view. "Sorry to disturb you, Your Worship. The prisoner from Val Royeaux has arrived."

"Thank you, Dendrick. I'll send word when I am ready to have him brought to the throne room."

The guard left them, and her friend spoke, "Well...you'd probably like some time alone to think. Just know that whatever decision you come to, I'll support you...and I'd guess that almost everyone in Skyhold will...frigid bitches aside."

"Thank you, Varric, for everything."

He nodded, while crossing her room, "I'll see you at the trial."

She watched him disappear down the steps, and her ears barely caught the murmured words as he exited, "So that I can punch the bastard myself."