Chapter Text
Kirkwall was bustling, its citizens happy for the reprieve of sunshine after the storm that had battered them for so long. The ground had begun to dry, damp clothing hung out of every open window, and strangers greeted one another as they passed. There were strange rumors in the air – of murdered Tevinter magisters found in the tavern, of dragons in the Bone Pit, and of growing violence among the Templars. Anders had begun to wear black.
It was a good day to get out of the city and head up Sundermount.
“You’re in love!” Merrill laughed and teased, avoiding a (possibly near-fatal) grab from Fenris, dancing away, splashing through puddles, only to round on her fellow elf again. “You keep looking at Hawke with sad puppy eyes every time his back is turned!”
There was no missing the broad smile that spread across Hawke’s face, even as Fenris snarled, “There are no puppy eyes!”
There may or may not have been a twinge of pink on his face.
“It’s all right, you know,” Merrill said brightly, walking backwards so she could watch them both. “Even you can be happy once in a while – it won’t kill you.” She erupted into giggles again at the murderous look he gave her, and the way the back of Hawke’s hand casually bumped into Fenris’s as they walked. “Your face might crack if you smile, though, so best be careful!”
Fenris’s growl was so loud it sent a little old lady darting across the street, even as Hawke laughed. Their hands accidentally bumped once again, and though Fenris shot threats and glowers Merrill’s way, he didn’t for a moment waver from Hawke’s side.
“Better let him alone,” Hawke advised as a twinkling in Merrill’s eyes broadcasted the fact that she had noticed – that she was willing to test her luck.
In the resulting silence that followed, it was Varric’s voice that rang out.
“Oh, I don’t know, Bianca,” the dwarf drawled slowly, conversationally. “I think they’re both walking funny.”