Samael was thinking about his life so far, thoughtlessly ripping the heads off flowers wilting in a blue vase. Who put this crap on his table anyway? Must have been his mother dearest. Since they arrived in Kirkwall, she was nothing more than constant pain in the ass. Samael this, Samael that, your dead mage-sister here, your dead warrior-brother there. Everything that he had done in the past few years was bad in her eyes. It wasn't just because she blamed him for the death of her two children. She acted like she would be happier if it was Samael who was bitten in half by that bloody ogre, not her precious mollycoddled Carver. And Bethany? His mage-sister? Oh, Samael instinctively hated mages since – well, since always. Maybe even feared them, like we fear the unknown, something new, hidden from us. He wouldn't say it out loud but he was quite content with them out of his life; everything was so much easier for him. He would be happier of course if they were alive – but alive someplace else.

He remembered the last time his mother yelled at him – well it wasn't completely unjustified. She had found two elven girls and their elder brother in his bed just a week after Bethany's funeral. She didn't understand that this was his way of dealing with his problems. Not that he would ever admit that he has problems. No, Samael Hawke would never admit that. The day he admitted that he was broken by the way life had treated him, that day he would cut his heart out. Nobody knew that he even refused to look in the mirror – too afraid that he would scream: "What do you want from me, you bloody conscience?"

He suddenly stood up, knocking the chair over, and choking in his own mansion. Dying heads of flowers were lying on the table. They were just like him – beyond help.

oOo

Their silent journey up the hill had been interrupted by Varric's quiet mumbling. He stared at his feet cursing Samael for bringing him along. Samael had been watching him with amusement, which made the dwarf even more mad.

"By the Stone, Hawke, stop grinning like this or I swear I will shoot that smirk off your face!"

"Haven't slept well, I take it?" Hawke chuckled. Varric's hand twitched toward Bianca, and Hawke shut up. You never knew with these moody dwarves. After a moment of silence Varric cocked his head and started an inquisition.

"Wait a minute, Rivaini. You're different today and only one thing could make you sneer like that. Who is the new victim?" Isabela grinned knowing her little secret had been uncovered and decided to brazen it out. To Varric's surprise, Samael grinned as well and did a victory gesture with his hands.

"Twice, then she felt asleep because of exhaustion."

"I did not," Isabela yelled in reply, defending her honor. "I just knew where we were going today, and I needed to sleep."

"I bet you did," Varric interrupted her with a cunning laugh. Isabela wanted to add another smart comment, but Hawke stopped the group with a raised hand, another hand ready to unsheathe the dagger on his back.
"Do you hear it? I hear something..." Hawke walked cautiously forward.

"I don't hear a thing, Hawke, you should get your ears checked," Varric replied, still laughing. And then they saw her.

A slender elven girl was sitting on a rock looking down at her hands. The light was dancing around those long bony hands. No – it was springing from them. Samael couldn't help himself and stared in fascination at her, and the silence behind him told him that his companions were staring, too. Then he came back to his senses, cleared his throat, and put his usual scoffing mask back on his face.

"Great, another mage in my way. And I'm not allowed to kill it." Yet – a little seductive voice in his head added. Before anyone could say anything, the tiny mage stood up and came to them.

"Hello there, I'm Merrill, which you probably knew already." Silence. Varric raised his eyebrow and poked his finger into Samael's arm.

"This is the moment when you say something like, 'Hi there, I'm Samael and we were sent here by your Keeper to finish our deal with that blasted witch.'

Samael twitched nervously and replied harshly, "Just get us to the shrine, witch, and let us get it over with. Don't try anything, for I will be watching you closely." Merrill looked confused as Isabela stepped in, her voice, surprisingly, almost maternal.

"Don't mind him, Merrill, let's go." She took Merrill's arm and pushed her gently up the hill.

"Did I say something wrong?" Varric and Samael heard her whispering to Isabela.

"C'mon Hawke, be nice, she's just a little girl," Varric murmured, apparently amused by Samael's speechlessness.

Samael didn't remember much of their journey – oh, just a little fact that a dragon swooped upon them, then turned into a freaking witch. He was just glad that they made it back to the Dalish camp. To his disbelief, the Keeper asked him to take the little witch with them. Of course he refused, but his companions stepped in and Varric stopped his yelling with one disapproving gaze.

"Andraste's knicker-weasels Hawke, we just take her to the city alienage."

"Fine," he growled in response storming off.

He didn't go with them, he would rather swallow up his cockochino than go to that lousy hole in Lowtown. He rushed in the Hanged Man as soon as they arrived in Lowtown, not even giving a single glance behind him. Isabela and Varric sighed and continued walking with Merrill.

"What is wrong with you?" was Isabela's first reaction as she sat down next to Hawke.

"And here we go." Varric mumbled under his non-existent beard.

"What is wrong with me? You have to be kidding me!" Hawke yelled in reply.
"She's a blood mage, Isabela! I should have stabbed her right there when she opened the way forward with that bloody dagger in her hand! We fulfilled our deal, the biggest dragon I've ever seen fell from the sky and no – that wasn't enough! The Keeper forced us to take her with us – just one more blood mage in this city, no big deal right?"

"Oh shut up you two," Varric slammed three small buckets of ale in front of them. Samael snatched the bucket and drank half of it off aggressively.

"Thanks, Varric, just what I needed" he said penitently. Anders, Aveline and even Sebastian joined them. Samael could finally forget those large doe eyes, the sparkling green stars within them.

oOo

After some time of teasing and laughing with his companions, Hawke looked at Sebastian – he was so buttoned-up, drinking slowly, still on his first ale, smiling gently when Aveline shared her stories from Fereldan. Then he looked at Isabela sitting on his lap, biting his ear, chuckling to herself, several empty mugs in front of her. Let the show begin, he thought.

"Our dear Sebastian, you said you once lived just as miserable life as us, this according to your own words – show me what you learned back then? I challenge you, who will insist on consuming less drinks then the rest. You will do whatever the winner asks you to do. And of course pay for all our whiskey," he chuckled. "What say you, your Highness?"

"Hawke, I'd love to oblige, but…" Sebastian had an uncertain beam on his face.

"Oh c'mon, chantry boy," Varric roared. "Hawke is a softie, your victory is a sure thing."

Sebastian looked around, embarrassed, everybody waiting for his reply. He inhaled sharply and nodded. Poor Sebastian.

Twelve mugs later, Sebastian fell off the bench, roaring with laughter at one of Isabela's dirty jokes about a Templar and the Grand Cleric. And then he snored and nothing could awake him. The rest of them burst out laughing, and Varric declared the winner. When Sebastian woke up, the plot was ready. Hawke smiled wickedly at the looks-like-crap-prince.

"Sebastian, go over there and pinch Norah's gorgeous ass." He said it slowly and loudly, enjoying every word. The prince looked at him with horror in his eyes.

"But… H-Hawke, you know, that she has s-slapped everyone who did this nasty thing to her. A true gentleman could never do such a thing to a lady! She will slap m-me!" Sebastian looked completely terrified staring at her and then at Hawke.

"Yeeeah, Sebastian, that's sort of my point." Everybody burst into another salvo of laughing.

Poor Sebastian sighed and stood up to do Hawke's bidding. As he came near Norah he looked desperately one more time at Hawke and the others. They were waiting, their mouths open, ready for another round of laughing. Sebastian sighed deeply and pinched her. She turned around in shock, her hand ready to punish whoever dared to touch her beautiful rear. But. When she saw Sebastian and his unhappy please-forgive-me look she hugged him and pressed her tempting lips on his.

Everybody stared at them in awe, and only Varric dared to comment. "Well – that didn't turn out the way we wanted, eh?" Hawke chuckled and spanked Isabela who was again sitting on his lap.