A/N: This is a collection of short stories and drabbles featuring Lorenna Hawke and her friends. They range from humorous to dramatic to romantic to tragic. As I post them as I write, they are out of chronological order. This is part of a larger collection about Lorenna, entitled Blood and Wine (you can find the full listing on my profile).

Rating is for language and some mature themes in later chapters.

Thanks for reading!

A Joint Endeavour

Something was burning at the Hawke Family Estate.

Had the servants been there that night, someone would have certainly raised the alarm. Or perhaps Bodahn Feddic would have ran all the way to the office of the City Guard to alert Captain Aveline Vallen that her dear friend was about to die in an imminent fire. But as it was, everyone had been dismissed and the estate was empty, save for two people.

The very same individuals who had caused the burning in the first place.

"That's not where that goes!"

"I know where it goes!"

"Do you? Because it looks like you're just making this up as you go along!"

"That's because you have no patience, Hawke," Fenris snapped.

Lorenna glared at him, dropping her pan back on the smoking stove with a clang. "I can be patient." She stepped towards him, draping her hand across his chest from behind—a perk of being the tall one in the relationship. "I can be very patient."

Fenris didn't move. He was frozen before the kitchen table, a knife in one hand, and a large red bell pepper—imported straight from Antiva—in the other. He glanced around the kitchen, at the smoke rising and circling the rafters, at the mess of pots and pans, burnt and crusted with what would have been their dinner. Only a basket filled with vegetables had been saved. Fenris sighed and slowly set down both the knife and the pepper, and placed his hand over Lorenna's. It hovered there for a brief moment before he pushed it out of the way, freeing himself from her grasp, and crossed over to the stove.

"It went out," he said.

"I can handle that," Lorenna said, raising a hand.

Fenris caught her hand and pulled her away from the stove. "No more magic," he said.

"Do you want this meal or not?" Lorenna asked.

"No more magic!" Fenris repeated.

"It's a shortcut!"

"There are no shortcuts where magic's involved!"

"Oh, for fuck's sakes, Fenris, it's a simple fire spell—"

"That's not the point!" Fenris exclaimed. "Just because magic provides a solution does not mean you should be reliant on it. Particularly when it comes to fine dining."

Lorenna blew out a puff of air, her red bangs fluttering across her forehead. "This isn't fine dining. This is a mess."

"So you say. Do you even know how to cook?"

"Yes," Lorenna said, folding her arms defensively.

Fenris arched an eyebrow.

"I know how to cook with magic," Lorenna added, spreading her hands.

Fenris frowned. "What constitutes 'cooking with magic', I wonder?"

"You take the thing, you put it on another thing, and you set it on fire?" Lorenna said.

Fenris rubbed his forehead. "Is that what counts for exquisite cuisine in Fereldan."

"Most of the time, yes."

"Hm. And here I was under the impression that the main feature of Fereldan cooking was that everything was stewed until it turned a uniform brown."

"There's that, too. We either roast or stew our food into oblivion."

Fenris turned away and surveyed the mess in the kitchen. "I don't know if I can save this disaster," he said.

"Hey!" Lorenna exclaimed. "I did my best, thank you very much—"

"Everything is burnt to a crisp." Fenris paused. "My fault as much as yours. I should have been more careful. I apologize."

Lorenna wrapped her fingers around his. "Let's call it a joint endeavour," she said and pulled him in for a kiss. "A joint disaster, to be more precise," she added, kissing him again.

"I still have those bottles of the Antivan red," Fenris said, drawing away. "I do believe we can still save this night."

"Wine for dinner?" Lorenna said. "Wouldn't be the first time. I'm game."