#destian

Hawke: What was Starkhaven like? Do you miss it?

Sebastian: It's, ahem, different to here.

Hawke: You can just say that Kirkwall is a shithole. No one's going to dispute you.

Sebastian: I think ‘different’ is apt enough. I do miss Starkhaven at times. Our courtyards, for one, are much nicer.

Hawke: Well, then. I’ll have to visit. Only for the courtyards, though.

Sebastian: I’d be glad to give you a tour.

-

Hawke: I noticed the Chantry’s got forget-me-nots in its gardens now.

Sebastian: Yes! I found some seeds. I believed… it was in need of some colour.

Hawke: Prince. Priest. Archer. Gardner.

Sebastian: Lofty titles, I know.

-

Hawke: You were close to your grandfather?

Sebastian: Very. I regret not spending more time with him during my childhood. I still carry his principles with me today, though I think it’s also made me a little biased towards the longbow.

Hawke: He sounds like a wise man. It really is a beautiful weapon. I never had the chance to learn, but I’m halfway decent with throwing knives at least.

Sebastian: I could teach you, if you’d like.

Hawke: Really? That’s so- I would love that. Thank you.

-

Fenris: I see that you like to remain close to Hawke in battle.

Sebastian: Everyone has a blind spot. You learn that quickly as an archer. As formidable a mage as she is, Destan has one too.

Hawke: I feel safer already.

-

Sebastian: I put a memorial up for your mother in the Chantry.

Hawke: Oh.

Sebastian: Do you… disapprove? I can take it down, if you wish.

Hawke: No, no. I was just surprised. You’re a kind person. I knew that already, yet still you continue to surprise me.

Sebastian: Kindness is the least I can do for you, my lady.

Hawke: I- for me? (chuckles) I’d rather you give it to someone who is worthy of it.

Sebastian: Everyone deserves kindness, Destan. Especially you.

-

Hawke: I planted the seeds you gave me. My sister used to love forget-me-nots. That’s probably why they’re my favourites. Because they were her’s.

Sebastian: My eldest brother liked them, too.

Hawke: Is that why you planted them in the Chantry?

Sebastian: Ah… yes. But that’s not the only reason.

Hawke: Yes, I remember. You wanted more colour. I don’t blame you; Kirkwall is far too grey for my liking.

-

Hawke: I like you, Sebastian. I feel as if you actually tolerate me.

Sebastian: I do more than tolerate you, Destan. I should hope I’ve made that obvious by now.

Hawke: Oh, yes! Yes. Absolutely. Yes.

Merrill: You don't know what he's talking about, do you?

Hawke: No.

-

Hawke: I think I’m going to invite my uncle to the wedding.

Sebastian: Destan, my light, are you sure? It’s your decision, but I want to make sure you aren’t doing it out of obligation.

Hawke: Mhm, it’s a terrible idea. I know. But I feel like finally we’ve reached some kind of understanding. He, um, he waters the flowers. The forget-me-nots. He does it when he thinks I’m not looking or not at home. But he does it. There’s no obligation, just my foolish sentiment.

Sebastian: Your ‘foolish sentiment’ happens to be one of the things I adore about you.

Hawke: You certainly know how to make me blush.

Sebastian: I try.

-

Hawke: I feel like I’m mourning this city before it’s even crashed and burned.

Sebastian: To me, it seems as if you are the only thing keeping it standing.

Hawke: Sometimes, I want to convince myself that the people here don’t deserve it. That I should just leave, let it crumble, have Orsino and Meredith battle it out somewhere quiet so I don’t have to bloody deal with it anymore.

Sebastian: But you can’t. You’ve kindness down to your bones, Destan.

Hawke: They’re wearier for it.