AN: Contains direct quotes from Malacca: A Romance by Kamsiah M. Bostock. Dragon Age series and all its known characters belong to Bioware.

"Sooo…that's pretty much it."

Marian sat back and watched as Isabela studied her thoughtfully. The usual hubbub of the Rivani settlement camp flowed over them like a river. It had become a somewhat unspoken meeting place between them both whenever they wanted to escape the usual crowd at the Hanged Man.

Isabela finally chuckled. "Sebby's the one, eh?" she said with a wink. "Can't say I'm surprised. You've been crushing on him before you even met Fenris."

"Um…I don't think it's a matter of who I crushed on first."

"I know, I know. Well, good for you both. You already told the rest of the gang about this? Or do I hold the honour of being the bearer of good news?"

"You're the only one so far. I –uh- don't really know how to tell them."

"Just say the same thing you said to me. We should celebrate this. We could call it the 'Hawke post-breakup and get together again' party. Where's Sebastian, anyway? Thought that he'd be here as well."

"He's gone back to the Chantry. Apparently he's quite knackered."

"Eh? From what?"

"Well," said Marian rather slowly. "After the meteor shower, there may be an instance – and I say this hypothetically – where we both suddenly found ourselves randier than a teenager."

Isabela quirked a finely shaped brow at this. "Oh? And what happens next…this hypothetical situation of yours?"

"We figured that we needed the services of an ordained priest rather desperately. So we woke Father Gilmore up and…asked for a favour."

"I don't suppose this 'favour' involves a lot of praying?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And…vows?"

"Exactly."

"Feh!" Isabela scoffed. "Don't tell me you got Sebastian to renew his vows just so you wouldn't screw each other? That's just…abysmally stupid!"

"No, not that kind of vow."

"Then what kind are you talking about…?"

Marian smiled rather beatifically, and got up. "G'night, love. We should do this again next week."

"Hell, no. C'mon! Where are you going?"

Isabela watched in exasperation as Marian tossed a wave over her shoulder. The pirate's mind was racing. What kind of blasted vow? She started counting out with her fingers the types of religious rigmaroles people usually do. Fealty. Brotherhood service. Confessions. Weddings…

Her eyes suddenly goggled spectacularly.

Weddings…

Marian had barely cleared a few feet when she heard the rather strangled scream:

"EEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHH….?"

She grinned to herself.

There's nothing like seeing the aftermath of a party and wishing that you could do it all over again. The hallway of Hawke mansion was still ringing with the echoes of her merrymaking friends even after all of them have long gone. Marian finally made no secret that she's kind-of married. Nobody would say the word 'elope' aloud, because technically both bride and groom had no parents to run away from. As it were, proof of the not-really wedding dinner was still evident at the dining room.

Varric's boots crunched over bits of broken pottery as he tottered his way across the foyer. In his state of tipsiness he still managed to find the right door and fell into the library at the second try.

"Whoops, 'scuse me," he said, noticing the figure hunched before the fireplace. "Thought this room was empty."

"It's just me, Varric."

"Fenris! What're you doing here all by yourself? Weren't you supposed to be at the Hanged Man? Isabela invited everyone for the after party."

"How come you're not on your way there?"

Varric went to the nearest armchair. It took every ounce of concentration for him to hop on; and once he finally did, he scooted his buttocks backwards and sighed contentedly against the cushions. His stubby feet dangled over the edge of the seat like a child's.

"'M too sloshed to walk straight," he said. "Thought I'd take a breather first before braving my way back to Lowtown. Say, you wouldn't mind us going together, would you?"

"I'm…not going. Sorry."

"Oh? So you'll crawl back to your home, then? Tch, you're no fun at all." Varric blinked, finally noticing the thing cradled in Fenris's hands.

"Ah, yes. Cue the jilted lover scene," the dwarf said. There wasn't a single trace of humour nor irony in his voice. "Plenty of memories with that sword, huh? Hawke sure has a good eye for gifts, yes serrah."

"That she does."

Varric pursed his lips, letting out a heavy sigh. "You can't stay here, you know. It'll just make things worse," he gently said.

"I will go when I feel like it!"

"Alright, alright. Fine. Have it your way." Varric placed his elbows on the armrest and laced his fingers over his belly. "Shall I tell you what happens next between you and Hawke?"

"No."

"She'll move back to Starkhaven with Choir Boy. In a few years she'll start pushing out kids and write to all of us about them. But in your letter, she'll write between the lines all the things she wish she could say, like how she wished her kids have your eyes, and how she wanted you to be the one waking up next to her every morning. Maybe there'll be a bit of smudged ink here and there. You'd think it's probably due to raindrops, but you know in your heart of hearts it's because of her crying as she wrote those words."

Silence flowed in, punctuated only by the echoes of old regrets and dusty memories.

"That's how Bianca got her name," said Fenris. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah well, you know me, Broody. I like it when the hero dies in the end. It's even better if he doesn't get the girl." Varric paused. "Not every story can end with 'And they all lived happily ever after'."

"I know that," growled Fenris. "I just wish-"

"That it's not happening to you? Sorry, kid…but it is. Look, I'm not going to feed you crappy lines about plenty more fish in the sea and whatnot. The worse thing you can do to a man after handing him the second prize is to rub it in his face. You'll be…okay. I know it."

Wordlessly, Fenris rubbed the newest addition to his sword with a thumb. Varric didn't have to ask what it was. It was no accident that Hawke's betrothal portrait was stolen weeks after it was comissioned. Now it was comfortably nestled at the centre of the pommel like a crown jewel and treated with as much reverence as a knight would have towards his patron goddess.

"Pure resin and tempered orichalum casing," said Varric, referring to the portrait. "It'd take real smithing skills to fuse it to the sword without ruining it. Whoever did it was a genius."

"Yes, well…it was worth every sovereign."

"I can see that."

Fenris stared unseeingly into the fire. His mind's eye started to wander upstairs, to a place where he knew he should've but couldn't be.

Wet kisses, a thousand-thousand kisses to make up for the years of abstinence…

Varric cleared his throat. "During pivotal moments of melancholia, I find it helps to either seek solace from the bottom of a tankard, or do something incredibly daredevilish just to get it out of your system. Usually those two happen together. Hey, how about we rename your sword?"

Fenris snorted. "Like what? Gladys? Or 'Ser Exterminator'?"

"Nothing quite as extreme, I assure you. Something sweeter. Something that rolls off your tongue everytime you say it."

The warmth of honey and roses drawing their bodies tighter together to the point where they could no longer separate themselves…

Fenris tried not to imagine. Did they roll on the bed, wrapped in silken sheets? He blocked out the image. Cocooned themselves into an eternity of pleasure for an hour of consummated love? Did Marian succumb to his whispered endearments? Did Sebastian make love to her over and over again?

Only the shadows cast by the flickering fireplace of her room knew the truth.

Fenris hefted up his sword, observing the way light hardly ever glinted off its dark blade. The thing seemed dormant, lifeless…belying the amount of raw power it possessed beneath the surface. He ran a finger down the cold steel, watching it come to life from the magic on his skin. He imagined those same fingers trailing over a much different form, one that is soft and pliant, all curves and muscle.

He allowed himself a wan smile. "Marian," he whispered.

There were…hints. But even the slightest bit could spark off gossip. The members of Give Fenris His Hawke had been naturally dejected at the outcome of the matter. Some had even drifted off to other couplings, simply for the act of speculation and 'what ifs'. One such conversation was taking place, within the cramped, dusty walls of a typical Lowtown hovel.

"So who'd you think be the next awesome couple?"

"Dunno. Maybe Knight-Captain Cullen and a mage?"

"He's already done that! He had that thing with this mage back in the Ferelden Circle, hadn't he? Hardly spoke about the girl, but it's happened before."

"Ooh! Ooh! I got it!"

"What's that?"

"How about: Give Meredith Her Orsino?"

There was a significant dramatic pause, until someone finally said: "That's crazier than a nug humping a bronto!"

"Meh. I know, I know. Just thought of letting that idea float around for a bit."

"But…"

"But what?"

"It might just work."

THE END

So long, farewell. Thanks for putting up with my silliness, guys :)