A/N: This is essentially going to be a collection of Sebastian/femHawke related one-shot pieces. From time to time you'll see me skip from a rogue to a mage Hawke, depending on what suits the story better. I like the idea of playing as rogue, but the events of Dragon Age 2 are far more compelling, as are the interactions with Hawke's party members, when she herself is a mage. I also have a very soft spot for Carver, so there's that.

Description: Sebastian gives rogue Hawke some archery lessions.

Warnings: Drunkeness and a stolen kiss.


The light of the moon glinted off the armor on Sebastian's left shoulder. The glare from the fire and chirping insects faded as he focused, shutting out everything until all that remained was him and the target. He let the arrow fly on an indrawn breath, watching as it sailed past gnarled branches and sank deep into the trunk of a sylvan tree.

"Like so," he said softly. The sky was alight with a million shining stars; it was a clear night, the weather perfect for once as the oppressive summer heat gave way to the darkness. They'd set up camp only a short distance from Merrill's clan of Dalish elves.

Turning, he stopped short as he realized Hawke was standing much closer to him than she'd been when he'd started his demonstration.

She swayed slightly, the effect of too much wine. She rarely drank, and as such had very little knowledge of her tolerance level on the rare occasions that she did indulge. They'd talked about her desire to learn to use a bow; she had a rather nice one tucked away in her weapons chest back home. Sebastian would never need anything but his family bow, and it was too fine for her to consider getting rid of it for the sparse coin the Lowtown stalls would offer.

The decision that this would be a good time to start her lessons was a lamentable one. He'd suggested it only after watching Merrill and Fenris both seek their bedrolls, leaving him and their leader quite alone, as she continued to nurse the bottle the white haired elf had left with her. The idea had originally been to occupy her hands with something that wouldn't add to the headache she'd nurse in the morning. The last time she'd over imbibed, they'd at least had a healer in their group, but Sebastian doubted that Merrill would have the ability to take the edge off.

So the lesson had begun, here in the dark, with a Hawke on unsteady feet.

He placed his bow into her waiting hands, backing up so she'd have room to maneuver. He admired her stance, she stood almost as she did whilst wielding her customary twin blades. The play of firelight on her features made her eyes glitter as she lined up her shot.

"I need an arrow," she said, her voice sounding almost breathless as she squinted in the direction of the tree.

"Of course," he fumbled for his quiver, making sure that her fingers closed tightly around the shaft of the arrow before he let go.

Blowing errant strands of raven hair away from her eyes with a puff of exhaled air, she took aim, as she'd seen him do countless times, and watched as the arrow veered wide, disappearing into the darkness. Hawke laughed, the sound quickly muffled as she clamped a hand over her mouth.

She turned to him, her eyes glowing in the darkness. "Eesh. Maybe I'm too old to be trying this for the first time."

Swallowing audibly, Sebastian handed her another arrow, stepping closer. Wrapping one arm around her, his hands came to rest over hers, moving her arms tighter against her body. "Not so loose," he murmured, feeling his lips brush her hair. His fingertips were warm and calloused on the backs of her hands. "Mind your breathing," he said, and moving one gloved palm against her stomach, he felt her diaphragm expand through her leathers on each indrawn breath.

Feeling breathless now, Hawke decided to simply hold it, feeling a bit lightheaded. Pulling the bowstring taunt, she shot without really trying. "Ha!" she cried as the arrow found its mark.

"Impressive," he said, letting his arms drop back to his sides. She turned to him and they nearly collided. Her excitement lit up her face, and before Sebastian could step back, she reached up, sliding her free hand behind his head, and cupping the back of his neck, placed a quick, hard peck on his open lips. It was over before he could react.

The air seemed to have been sucked into a vacuum; all was silent, save for the crackling of the fire. Sebastian cleared his throat, the sound almost a shout in the darkness. A blush crept up her cheeks as she seemed to remember herself. "Oh. Sorry 'bout that," she stammered in a near mumble as her brows met over her now-troubled eyes.

Moving swiftly, she turned away, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her empty bedroll. She quickly decided to let the fire die on its own, instead of banking it. Without bothering to remove any of her armor, she lay down heavily. Turning to face the darkness, she hugged her knees to her chest and closed her eyes.

He fumbled for something to say until the minutes stretched one into the other and it felt like it was too late.

He sat up watching the fire and wondered if she'd remember anything of tonight come the morning. And if it wouldn't be better if she did forget.