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“Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Sebastian’s bright blue gaze captured yours, and after taking a moment to collect yourself, you nodded. He put a hand on your elbow and led you from your seat with the rest of Hawke’s group. You could feel their gazes heavy upon the two of you as Sebastian escorted you to a dark corner of the Hanged Man, but judging by the Chantry boy’s confidence, you doubted his intentions were anything but innocent. You would have to explain to him later that taking someone to an abandoned corner of a tavern usually constituted much, what he would call, “filthier” implications.

“Should I have worn my nice smallclothes?” you asked rather forthright, and you watched Sebastian choke.

“N-no, I didn’t mean—Maybe I should go.” He started to walk away before even telling you the reason for bringing you with him in the first place, so you grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards you.

“No, no,” you sighed and brushed a stray hair from his eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have given you a hard time.”

Sebastian smiled at you. “You wouldn’t be my friend if you didn’t.”

“Just friends?” you murmured, giving a little smirk.

A sound caught in his throat, making you giggle and kiss his cheek innocently. “Anyways, what was it you wanted?”

He cleared his throat. “Ahem, well, yes. I was—um—just wondering if you would be interested—” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath, seemingly collecting his thoughts. It took him a few moments to speak again, during which time you grabbed his hands and intertwined your fingers.

“Hey, it’s fine. Just tell me what you need to say.”

He smiled at you, and seemed to find his voice. “There’s a charity event the Chantry will be holding in three days’ time. We’ll be giving out food and supplies to the homeless, largely Ferelden refugees.”

You scoffed. “Are you trying to imply something about my financial status?”

“No, no! Oh, please don’t think that.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “By the Maker, I never thought this would be so difficult. I was just wondering—”

He stopped himself again and you sighed, regretting that you had gotten so ahead of yourself in assuming the implications of his statement. While it wasn’t beyond him to offer unwarranted help, you were floating pretty easily on the waters now-a-days. You put a hand on his cheek.

“Yes, Seb. What is it?”

“I was just wondering,” he said again, then took a deep breath, “if you’d like to come with me. Serve some of the poor. There will be a choir event afterwards, that’s what made me think of you, in all honesty. You’re musical, after all. And I’d—I’d—” he looked to your lips, then seemed to have second thoughts and brought your hand up into a chaste kiss. “I’d really appreciate if you’d accompany me.”

You smiled at him momentarily, before your smile morphed into a smirk. “So…why did you have to pull me aside to ask me this?”

“Oh, I just, erm—” He flushed a bright shade of pink. “I’m going to go now.”

You write such a PERFECT Sebastian I am totally jelly of you!
You're way better then I am at writing the role of _____ character.
And I have your story link as a book mark

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – Fenris

You closed the door to the Hanged Man behind you as your shift ended. The streets lay desolate, and you took a deep breath before starting out. Every night felt like a renewed attempt to conquer the roads and whoever hid in their shadows, and you mustered your courage as you walked, comforting yourself with reassurances that most nights, miscreants left you alone, so, statistically, you would make it home without event.

It was just as these reassurances began to relax your stiffened frame that you felt a rough hand grab your shoulder and jerk you around.

“Eep!” you yelped, holding your lute protectively over your chest and shutting your eyes tight. A familiar chuckle caused your eyes to open and narrow into a deadly glare. “s**t, Fenris,” you told the elf, “I nearly wet myself.”

He smirked, dropping his hand from your shoulder. “Bodily functions aside, there’s a reason I followed you out here.”

“I noticed you were staying late.” You lowered your lute and shifted its weight into one hand. “What’s on your mind?” And why couldn’t he simply ask me when I took my breaks with the rest of the group?

“It has to do with our lessons,” he told you, and your gaze turned downcast for a moment, fearing for the worst. Did he want to stop your weekly meetings?

“What about them?” Your voice trembled.

Fenris did not offer you a reassuring smile that most would have. Then again, the elf never cared much for social nuances. “The others are growing suspicious. Wondering why I visit your home for hours at a time so regularly.”

“Tell them to mind their own business,” you commented airily.

He growled at the memory. “I have.”

“Then tell them we’re ******** opened his mouth to reply as a reflex, then snapped it shut as your words sank in. “I—” he began, then stopped. Idly, he scratched the back of his head and you couldn’t help but giggle at your accidental success in perplexing the poor elf.

It took many moments, standing in the cold night air, for him to finally speak. “Perhaps a different solution.” He held out his hand towards the direction of your home, signaling you to start walking, and bowed his head. With a grin, you took his free arm with your free hand and pulled him along with you. He kept his head bowed as you walked, as if he was hiding something…a smile? Perhaps, a flush?

He made no motion to speak again until you reached your front door. Though short, it had been a pleasant stroll, and as you smiled up at him in that deserted district, he smiled back. You unlocked your front door, but stalled entering, reluctant to retire for the night and leave your friend before he could speak his mine. When Fenris realized that you waited for him, he cleared his throat.

“Yes, well, I have an idea. Perhaps you could journey to Hightown sometime and we could have our lesson there, at my place. Hawke and his party won’t look for us there.

“Do you have visitors often?” you asked. “Any chance we might be interrupted?”

“Hawke and Isabela stop by on occasion, but only when I ask,” he said. “So, no, there should be no interruptions.”

“Good, because you’ve dramatically improved since we started and I’d hate for unwanted distractions to set us back.”

“Are you sure you didn’t just want my undivided attention?” The elf smirked at you, and you smacked him playfully on the arm.

“Get out of here, before I call the Guard-Captain on you.” You winked at him, to which he chuckled before he began to walk away. Sighing and shaking your head, you started into your home when the call of your name stopped you in your tracks.

Fenris grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him before planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. “Thank you.”

Your welcome! >w< I'm not even a Fenris fan girl and that last chapter made me squeal like I was one!!!Keep up to good work deary

Since it's taking longer than usual for the next chapter to be approved on Luna, I'll post it on here.



You sat on the stairs that led to Hightown, a basket of fruit set on the stair next to you. The sun peeked out from over the tops of the tall buildings, revealing it to be mid-day. You sighed at the restlessness of time, going back to your previous task of flicking pebbles at passers-by, when a figure overshadowed you.

“Repurposing the staircase, are we?” Hawke plopped beside you, a signature, wolfish grin on his face. “You know, if we all sat on the stairs, no one could get up or down them. Is that your master plan?” he asked, eyes twinkling. “Holding up Hightown?”

“You caught me,” you grinned, knocking him in the shoulder. He grabbed an apple from your basket and took a big crunch from it before handing it to you. You looked to him curiously before taking the fruit and biting the other side of it.

“No, if you want the truth,” you told him after swallowing and passing back the fruit, “I tripped on my way up these stairs. Hurt like a ******** too.”

“If a ******** hurts, he’s doing it wrong,” Hawke interceded, winking at you, before taking another bite of the apple and returning it to you.

“After the initial pain, it seemed fine enough to walk on,” you continued as if you’d never been interrupted, “so I continued to the market. I heard they have the best fruit here, and this body hasn’t had some decent produce in a while.” You took a bite of the apple. This time, its juice ran down your palm.

“That’ll be sticky later,” Hawke said, then clicked his tongue in mock displeasure. “Once you get those hands on me, they won’t come off. You trying to tell me something?”

“Take the damn apple,” you said, shoving it into his hands. He laughed and shared a bite. “Anyways, coming down the stairs proved far more difficult than I was expecting. My ankle gave out from under me, so I’ve just been waiting for the pain to subside enough for me to finish my errand, then prepare for work.”

Hawke tossed the newly-revealed apple core into the fruit basket its whole self had originated from. “Let me see,” he said, taking the hem of your skirt. You nodded.

“I think it’s a sprain,” you said as he lifted your skirt slightly, but the shadow that overcame Hawke’s face told you otherwise.

“And Meredith is just moody,” he joked before standing and lifting you easily.

You yelped. “Hey! What are you doing?” You clasped your arms around his neck tightly in fear of falling.

“I thought we’d go for a stroll,” he mused.

“My fruit basket!” you protested as the dark-haired man began to lead you away from your investment. He sighed and walked back up the stairs, dipping you low so you could pick it up. Content now that your money’s-worth was safe, you pulled out another apple and crunched on it happily while Hawke carried you Maker-knows-where.

You have NO idea how much this means to me. I do NOT feel confident in my ability to write comedy at all, so THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! heart

Why is it taking so long for the next chapter T^T