beyond all hope

“I’m not joking. Tell me about it.” She flips onto her stomach and props her chin on her elbows, eyes twinkling like they always do when she’s trying to find the best way to tease him. “An elf that converted to the Qun meets a handsome merchant from Antiva on the docks of Kirkwall and fall in love? A prostitute from the Blooming Rose and a guardsman defend themselves from a pack of crazed blood mages and have sex in a puddle of blood?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him. “A champion and her trusty dwarven sidekick have glorious sex in his bedroom at the Hanged Man? That’s bestseller material, I think.”Varric chuckles again, staring up at the ceiling long enough that Hawke starts to stare at him, too. He’d like to appreciate the joke, but he can’t.“What are you thinking about?” she asks, seriously.What is he thinking about? A lot of things. Hawke’s smile. Hawke’s hands. Hawke. How much he loves her. How much he missed her. And, of course, templars. Their undying loyalty to the cause. Their pointy swords. The noose they’re going to hang Hawke from if they find her here.He sighs, bracing himself for her reaction. “I just… I don’t think this is a good idea.”