Disclaimer: I do not own.


Jenna Hawke leaned back against a convenient wall in the courtyard behind Kirkwall Chantry. As she observed the scene in front of her, she began to mentally curse her self-control, the Maker, hormones in general, and infuriatingly handsome blue-eyed princes in particular.

But most of all she cursed the fact that, having agreed to meet said prince at a particular time, she'd decided that since it was an especially hot day, there was no harm in arriving a little early and taking advantage of the excellent shade available in the Chantry courtyard.

This sensible decision had backfired. Horribly.

When Hawke arrived at the Chantry, she'd run into Grand Cleric Elthina, who had helpfully informed her that she would find Sebastian in the rear courtyard, finishing his morning archery practice.

Which was why Hawke was now leaning against the courtyard wall, waiting for Sebastian to finish practice and trying like hell not to gawk like a lovesick teenager at the very sweaty, very out-of-breath man in the ridiculously thin cotton shirt that was clinging to his torso in a very distracting fashion.

I am an adult, she reminded herself. I am self-assured, I am mature, I am- Oh good, looks like he's finishing up. We can go soon. . . Ooh! He's taking off his shirt! Don't stare, don't stare! Andraste's flaming ass, don't stare!

Not staring, however, proved to be more of challenge than Hawke expected. Sebastian, having finished his practice, slung the shirt over his shoulder and made his way towards the small fountain in the opposite corner of the courtyard, where he proceeded to dump handfuls of cold water over his head.

Oh sweet merciful Maker! Hawke groaned inwardly as she watched the water trickle down his face and neck and then drip from his well-defined chest. He's trying to kill me, she thought in despair, shutting her eyes. This is some kind of cosmic punishment. No one who's chaste should be allowed to look that good. It just isn't fair-

"Hawke?" Sebastian's voice interrupted her thoughts. Hawke's eyes flew open to find the prince standing in front of her, still half naked and dripping, a concerned look on his face. "You're looking pale. Are you ill?"

"Mm fine," Hawke mumbled, staring at the ground and wishing it would open and swallow her up. "Really."

Sebastian frowned and rested a hand against her forehead. "You seem a little hot, Hawke. Come sit down," he insisted, steering her towards a convenient ledge by the fountain. "You don't feel faint, perhaps? Did you forget to eat breakfast again?"

"Am fine," she mumbled again, trying desperately not to stare at his chest. "Honest. You should go get a clean shirt. We don't want to be late."

He blinked, as if only just noticing the fact that he was half-naked. "Oh. Right. Just give me a minute. I'll be right with you." And with that he walked back across the courtyard and disappeared into the Chantry.

Once she was sure Sebastian was out of earshot, Hawke let out a heartfelt curse. "If you're listening, Maker," she added, "I really, really hate you right now!"


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