Edit to add - tiny DA:I spoilers warning for the meager mentions about a romanced Sebastian.
Since they'd come to Starkhaven, all of their plans had changed. They were not at the head of a conquering army nor had they been able to push the usurper off the throne. Instead they were honored guests while they made their claims, with most of the nobility in a protracted catfight for the throne. The Chantry mediated for them, as much as they could in such times of turmoil. She knew it was never going to be as easy as they'd hoped, but there was more resistance then either of them had anticipated.
She did not miss Kirkwall, but Sebastian did. He found no refuge in the the Chantry here, which was too much like the one in Kirkwall, and yet not enough like it for him to feel peaceful. The rolling hills and natural grandeur of the landscape brought him more solace than he could find in any building, and she often found him praying in the fields of heather that bordered the estate where they stayed.
His head was just discernible over the stalks of flowering purple that covered the land, and Hawke headed towards him. She didn't pray, not because she didn't believe, but because without Bethany by her side her words felt hollow and sad. On rare days she sang the Chant with Sebastian, but those days had been few in number since they'd reached Starkhaven. The soft purr of his voice reached her as she approached, and she found herself mouthing the words along with him.
"Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder."
When Sebastian finished, she was kneeling next to him. Not praying, but silent and respectful as he finished his own prayers. He smiled at her, a weak and weary smile, too worn around the edges for her liking. She resettled herself to keep her balance and reached out to bring his steepled hands to her lips. Hawke kissed the tips of his calloused fingers and when he opened his hand to cup her face, she pressed a kiss on the inside of his palm. These hands meant so much to her; they held her when she was ill, pulled her up when she fell, had brought her food when she could not get her own. The man to whom they belonged was her greatest joy in a bleak world.
"Is it time?" he asked.
"Not yet. We can sit for a little while."
"How about a short walk instead? I'm losing the feeling in my knees."
Hawke laughed, the sound rusty in her throat. She held out her hand for him to take, and he kissed the inside of her gloved palm as well before lacing his fingers through hers. She smiled but said nothing, leaning on his side as they walked through the heather fields.
In the Heather - F!Hawke/Sebastian - G
Since they'd come to Starkhaven, all of their plans had changed. They were not at the head of a conquering army nor had they been able to push the usurper off the throne. Instead they were honored guests while they made their claims, with most of the nobility in a protracted catfight for the throne. The Chantry mediated for them, as much as they could in such times of turmoil. She knew it was never going to be as easy as they'd hoped, but there was more resistance then either of them had anticipated.
She did not miss Kirkwall, but Sebastian did. He found no refuge in the the Chantry here, which was too much like the one in Kirkwall, and yet not enough like it for him to feel peaceful. The rolling hills and natural grandeur of the landscape brought him more solace than he could find in any building, and she often found him praying in the fields of heather that bordered the estate where they stayed.
His head was just discernible over the stalks of flowering purple that covered the land, and Hawke headed towards him. She didn't pray, not because she didn't believe, but because without Bethany by her side her words felt hollow and sad. On rare days she sang the Chant with Sebastian, but those days had been few in number since they'd reached Starkhaven. The soft purr of his voice reached her as she approached, and she found herself mouthing the words along with him.
"Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,
I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm.
I shall endure.
What you have created, no one can tear asunder."
When Sebastian finished, she was kneeling next to him. Not praying, but silent and respectful as he finished his own prayers. He smiled at her, a weak and weary smile, too worn around the edges for her liking. She resettled herself to keep her balance and reached out to bring his steepled hands to her lips. Hawke kissed the tips of his calloused fingers and when he opened his hand to cup her face, she pressed a kiss on the inside of his palm. These hands meant so much to her; they held her when she was ill, pulled her up when she fell, had brought her food when she could not get her own. The man to whom they belonged was her greatest joy in a bleak world.
"Is it time?" he asked.
"Not yet. We can sit for a little while."
"How about a short walk instead? I'm losing the feeling in my knees."
Hawke laughed, the sound rusty in her throat. She held out her hand for him to take, and he kissed the inside of her gloved palm as well before lacing his fingers through hers. She smiled but said nothing, leaning on his side as they walked through the heather fields.