A little update to celebrate finals being over for me. I recently came across some information in regard to cut content to the DA II game, and was surprised and amused to see that there was originally a quest where you had to deal with the Templars that were after Hawke (or Bethany). It was cut for some reason, so I decided to have a go at it. It sort of ran away from me though, so I apologize. Enjoy!

It was his lot in life to suffer, Fenris decided tiredly.

"Fenris! Hurry, before they catch up!"

He had thought, naively, that he would have a nice, quiet day at his mansion, alone and licking his wounds from his previous mission with Hawke. His muscles were still sore from the fight, the wounds, and the subsequent use of healing magic from Anders. Everything just hurt, and he was weary of it, plain and simple. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a chair by his fireplace and drink wine throughout the whole day, doing absolutely nothing.

Instead, Hawke had visited, bringing unintended guests with her.

"So this is why you are trying to get on the expedition for the Deep Roads?" he panted.

"Yes, well, Templars are funny like that," she replied, taking a sharp turn into an alley and dragging the elf with her, the jangling sound of metal not far behind them. "They see something that sparkles or burn, and they just can't let it go. Like Varric with a good book."

"What did you do exactly?" Fenris asked.

"Oh, it was nothing. Really, it was…well, that's a lie. I may have yelled at Carver this morning and may have said that if he didn't shut up, I might set his hair on fire. When he proceeded to ignore my warning, I may have actually set his pants on fire." As she said this, she yanked him into a doorway, holding him against her and motioning for him to be quiet. He almost disobeyed; he was fighting with two different impulses, one that screamed at him to leap away from such direct contact while the other demanded he advance further.

The jangle of armor grew louder, and he stilled. A group of four Templars ran past, intent on where they thought the apostate had gone.

Despite their current situation, and their current closeness, Fenris couldn't resist cocking an eyebrow at her. "That's a lot of supposed happenstance, Hawke."

"Isn't it?"

"And where is your hot-headed brother at this moment?"

"Probably at home, holding mother off from trying to find me on her own," Hawke grumbled, leading them into a crowd of passing guardsmen. The guards looked at them for a moment before apparently dismissing them, chatting quietly amongst themselves.

"And where are we going?" he asked, feeling edgy with so many strange people so close.

"The one place they would never, ever go," Hawke smirked.

Five minutes later, Fenris was cursing up a storm as the mage led him through the Blooming Rose.

He fumed as she spoke with the Madame, pointedly ignoring the whores who dared look his way. This early in the day, there were few customers about, and most of the workers were either milling about relaxing or getting ready for when business would pick up.

"Where are we going now?" he snapped when Hawke again grabbed him, this time following after the Madame.

"She's giving us a room until they give up."

Fenris halted in his steps, unintentionally yanking Hawke back. "What."

The mage huffed, looking up at him with a frown. "She's giving us a room."

"I got that."

"To hide out until this blows over."

"I got that as well."

"What don't you get?"

"Why are we doing this?" Fenris growled. "We could just as easily slip out the back-"

"-and right into their hands," Hawke interrupted. "Come come, she promised it was clean."

And that explained why he was currently in a gaudily decorated bedroom, with Hawke spread out on the large bed, reading a book of all things while she kicked her legs up behind her, swinging them up and down, occasionally tapping the mattress. He stood stiffly by the door, not entirely comfortable with the situation.

"Fenris, the bed is clean," Hawke sighed after a moment, patting the empty space beside her. "It'll be a while. Why don't you make yourself comfortable?"

"That's alright," he said quickly, turning away as the edge of her robe slipped, barring her ankles.

Such tiny, delicate looking things, her ankles. He wondered if they were as soft as they appeared, if she would sigh or giggle if he brushed a kiss over them-

"Why are you blushing?"

Because for some reason the sight of your bare ankles makes me completely flustered, Hawke.

Of course, he didn't say that.

"Just…it's warm. In this room. That's all."

"Is it?" Hawke asked lightly, turning back to her book. "I thought it was a little chilly myself. Are you sure you don't want to join me? I'll scoot all the way over, so you'll have plenty of space."

He considered for a moment. He was still sore, the running around had not helped matters, and the bed did look comfortable…

"Very well."

Hawke happily scooted closer to the edge of the bed, leaving Fenris a fair chunk of the mattress. Gingerly, he lowered himself onto his stomach, a soft sigh escaping his lips as the bed held him up, easing some of his burden.

"I ruined your day off, didn't I?" Hawke asked after a moment of silence.

Fenris opened his eyes, turning his head to look over at his current bed mate only an arms' length away. "Well, we haven't had our pockets picked, and we avoided a fight, so it's not completely ruined," he reasoned.

"Oh. That's good," the mage decided, turning a page in her book. "How are you, by the way? Still sore from yesterday?"

Fenris saw no reason to lie. "Yes, yes I am."

"Want me to give you a massage? It'll help your muscles relax."

He paused, truly tempted.

"I…don't think that would be a good idea," he said regretfully after a moment. "Thank you for the offer though."

"Any time, Fenris."

She turned another page, and Fenris looked at the book curiously. He couldn't read the title, of course, but it did have a picture on the front, a man and a woman, locked in an embrace and-

He nearly fell off the bed. "Hawke!"

"What?"

"Why are you…what is…"

"Oh, this?" Hawke said, looking at him and holding up the book disinterestedly. "It's no good Fenris, I promise. It's all just pictures, no plot or anything. Although I think this one looks very interesting-"

"So…let me get this straight," Varric said, sitting back in his chair for a moment as he contemplated the elf before him. "She led you on a chase throughout Kirkwall."

"Yes."

"She then proceeded to take you to a whore house."

"Yes."

"Where she got a private room for the both of you."

"Yes."

"And you were in bed with her-"

"On my side of the bed, with my clothing on," Fenris interjected firmly.

"And you blew a gasket because she was looking at dirty pictures?"

"People should not be able to bend like that."

"You know what Broody? Forget it," Varric sighed, scratching out a block on text on his parchment. "For the sake of your reputation, I'm leaving that story out. No one wants to hear about a loner elf and rebellious former slave with a voice of sex freaking out over a few naughty pictures."

Fenris cocked an eyebrow. "'Voice of sex'?"

"Hmm….how about a voice that's smoky, and like dark chocolate?" Varric asked, smiling happily as he wrote down his ideas. "Mysterious, smooth, but with a healthy dose of 'bitter resentment towards my former master'?"

"That's enough for me for one day," Fenris said, standing and leaving Varric's suite.

Varric snorted at the elf's departure. "No literary sense, that one. Oh well." He paused, nibbling on the end of his quill for a moment before starting over.

"'And so the rebellious fugitive took his lady to the bed, where he proceeded to show her just how flexible a person could really be…'"