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They expect the Champion of Kirkwall to do better.
Hawke almost finds it ironic, after all that he's done for them, that they turn up their noses at his choices about his personal life. But he can't find it in himself to truly care; he is happy with his decisions, and damn what everyone else thinks.
They expect the Champion of Kirkwall to have a lover, but they do not expect that lover to be an elf.
Too damn bad.
"Hawke," Fenris complains, when Hawke grabs his hand right in the middle of Hightown and struts him past the gaping nobles standing by.
"What?" Hawke asks cheerfully, brushing his thumb in a circle over the back of his hand. He can play clueless.
"They're staring."
Now Hawke turns his gaze on the people watching them, on a curtain that rustles as he looks around, and looks back at Fenris with wide eyes. "Oh. So they are!"
Fenris gives him the most dry of looks, but his eyes flick away, as they are wont to do, Hawke has noticed. "You should-"
"I should kiss you right here in front of all of all these snobby nobles!" Hawke interrupts, and before Fenris can protest, he pulls him in, curves his hand around the back of his neck, and kisses him.
Now a muffled protest comes, and Fenris's fingers pull away from Hawke's as though he is priming to push him away. He doesn't. Hawke notices afterwards that Fenris has curled his hands into fists at his side and his eyes have slammed shut. It does not interfere with the way that Fenris kisses him back, a touch hesitantly, but just as passionately if they're tucked away at home.
"Hawke." Fenris says his name again, disapproving, when they part. But his voice is a little deeper, he rumbles out the word, even as he shifts on bare feet in the middle of Hightown.
Hawke doesn't pull away entirely, tapping a hand against Fenris's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asks quietly. He knows Fenris has problems with intimacy, sometimes, and Hightown is as public - and judgmental - as it can get. He doesn't care about his neighbours, but he does care about Fenris.
"... They are staring," Fenris repeats, and his throat bobs as he swallows. His eyes betray him again as they glance to the people assuredly watching them.
"It bothers you?"
"No, but it should bother you," Fenris retorts.
"It doesn't." Hawke now takes a step back. "I don't give a damn for what they think. I love you, Fenris. Elf, human, dwarf, Qunari, nug. I love you, and they can take their prejudices and shove them up their arse."
Fenris stares at him for a moment. His eyes are wide and searching and intent. It's almost as if he is trying to influence Hawke into saying that he doesn't love him, that he doesn't need him, that they shouldn't be together. Then his lips quirk towards a tiny smirk, and he says "I doubt you would enjoy me if I were a nug, Hawke."
Hawke laughs out loud, catches Fenris's hand again. "Well, we couldn't have had this conversation if you were a nug. We probably wouldn't have even met!"
Now Fenris only rolls his eyes. His fingers squeeze infinitesimally at Hawke's fingers, and Hawke beams.
He can practically hear the minds of all of Hightown's nobles exploding. If it was possible, he would grin even more. Let them think what they want. The Champion of Kirkwall not only being with a man, but an elf? They considered it such a scandal. Well, it wouldn't be the first time Hawke had his name thrown all over town and it wouldn't be the last. It would be for the best reasons, though. Being in love with this man, this elf, Fenris.
Let them think what they want. He was happy, and so was Fenris. And he kind of liked getting on his neighbour's nerves, anyway, after all.