A/N: I am very bad at anonymity. This is a kmeme fill I liked too much not to post. Not exactly to the requirement of the OP as I fear that would have turned into something monstrously long (see OP at the bottom) but here is Sebastian with memory loss inspired by OP's line for him. Also with F!Hawke/Sebastian... because I never have before.
In some ways, Hawke was an awful person. She wanted what she couldn't have and pursued it until it fell into her hands (or died, usually by her hand). And yet, Sebastian had spent the last four years fending off her advances. She was Champion of Kirkwall with a hefty pedigree, a nice estate, and bucket-loads of influence! She had killed a high dragon, duelled the Arishok, and avenged Sebastian's family! Most men were not worthy of her but never before had she felt so... inadequate. The word made her cringe.
It was stupid to be watching him when they were fighting slavers but here she was, watching him notch his arrow and follow the movement of a fighter before letting loose. It was like spearing fish in a barrel, which Hawke had never done but assumed would make fishing quite easy.
She really should have been paying attention though.
Two mages, two spells, both hit. Sebastian went flying backwards with such force that he broke the crates behind him and lay amidst the broken wood, groaning. One of Hawke's daggers sailed across the distance between her and one of the mages, catching him in the throat while Fenris' greatsword almost cleaved the other mage in two. She could hear Merill and Fenris dispensing of the remaining two slavers with vigour as she rushed to Sebastian's side to check on him.
"Sebastian, stay with me," she shouted at him, smacking his cheek to make sure he heard her.
Blood was leaking from a gash near his temple and he gasped in pain when he tried to move. Sebastian looked up at her with hazy blue eyes, smiling goofily.
"Hello. You're beautiful," he murmured before fainting dead away.
Hawke was by no means humble or modest but even her own brain went 'Huh?'. She had spent years waiting for some sort of sign that Sebastian thought of her as more than simply their fearless leader. Here it was, in a relatively public space, but he was knocked out and behind them she could hear the gurgles of dying slavers, Merril's inane chatter, and Fenris rummaging for coins. It was far from romantic... still, she'd take it.
Hawke leaned forward from her relaxed position as she heard Sebastian groan. He reached up and Hawke almost reached for his hand before she realised he was shielding his eyes from the lamplight. That would have been awkward, she thought, looking away lest her face was doing something traitorous like blushing. She was twenty six summers old, not a virginal maiden! Doing things like pining and blushing were not for the likes of her age or stature.
"Usually the nurses who tend to me are a lot older, plumper, and uglier," came Sebastian's bleary voice playfully.
Hawke looked down at herself. Her blood-splattered armour, sheathed daggers, and somewhat distressing stench of blood, health poultice, and sweat did not seem very nursely to her. That was beside the point though; Sebastian made jokes but he did not do so about her appearance.
"What?" Her brain was having a difficult time keeping up with events. "I'm not your nurse, Sebastian. Anders is your nurse."
"Healer," she heard Anders mutter as he walked by on his way to tend to other patients.
"Ah." Poor Sebastian looked very confused. "I seem to be at a disadvantage. If I may be so bold to ask, miss, who is Anders and who are you?"
Hawke had hastily excused herself and was now having a furious, whispered conversation with Anders while Sebastian critiqued his removed (and now completely alien to him) armour.
"Seeing as you had a barely-adult bloodmage with you rather than a mage who actually knew what they were doing, I suppose it would be too much to ask if you know what spells hit him?" Anders griped, his frown deepening as Hawke simply shrugged. "In any case, it was probably not a stable combination and whatever they were somehow affected his memory. The head injury he got from slamming against the crates and wall probably didn't help either."
Lectures were usually given to her by her mother and even then she barely tolerated it. Anders giving her a lecture was much like her mother's lectures but they involved a lot more criticism of her choice in mage-hating companions than it did in her choice of attire. What was wrong with her choice in friends and clothes, anyway?
Her brain was getting off-topic though.
"Sebastian's personality has changed too. Did the spells switch that out with someone else's?"
"I doubt it. It seems he was a..." Anders frowned, looking around as if he were trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say. "Well, a good-for-nothing rake prior to his Chantry days. I didn't know there could be a Sebastian who was worse than the Chantry-brainwashed, Templar-loving, mage-oppressing one we know."
Hawke laughed. Sometimes he could be so politically correct and other times he went straight for the throat. "Sometimes I think you could do with some memory loss and a personality change, Anders."
"You should feel lucky I fix the likes of him anyway, Hawke."
"Aw, I know you're too good-hearted to turn our companions away, no matter what you think of them."
Anders gave her a look that said he was not amused that she knew this titbit of information. "His memories will probably come back eventually. For now, just take him away and re-educate him."
Hawke mimicked a curtsey and walked over to Sebastian, telling him to put his armour on and she'd explain the past few year of his life to him.
"A brother of the Chantry?" Sebastian broke down laughing, a big, hearty laugh that Hawke had never heard from him before. Usually he just chuckled... and it wasn't even a jolly chuckle! It was more like someone who was beyond this world found the lives of mortals vaguely amusing. It was incredibly sexy but so was this new laugh and this new laugh was a lot more intriguing too.
He suddenly sobered, as if some dooming revelation had been handed down to him, and asked fearfully, "Does that mean I've been celibate?"
YES! Hawke wanted to scream but she settled for calmly saying, "So I've been led to believe."
"So you don't know if I've been celibate?" His tone was hopeful, his eyes large and pleading. "I could have been liaising with a few choice sisters in dark corners?"
Hawke didn't quite know how to react to that. In theory he could have been doing that, yes, and it would certainly explain why he was able to ignore her flirtations. Maybe she should have donned a Chantry robe and seen how well he reacted to that instead.
No, no, no, that was stupid. Sebastian was all righteousness this, the Maker that, Elthina blah, blah, blah. If anyone was going to take their vows seriously it would be Sebastian. Even after avenging his family he wanted to stay with the Chantry. What self-serving prince with a land to retake wouldn't take it unless they were not self-serving at all?
"Your silence leads me to believe that you do not believe I would have been-"
"No, Sebastian, I do not think you were doing such things," she interrupted, not wanting to hear any more talk of him doing things with other women that she wanted to do with him.
He sighed and stared off into the sun setting into the sea, looking like a forlorn, lost, little puppy who had just been given food, only to have it taken away and then been kicked for good measure.
She abruptly pushed herself off the railing they were leaning against during their chat. This looked a lot like moping and Hawke did not like to dwell on depressing things. She was alive while a lot of people she loved weren't. She was therefore living for a lot of people and crying over things that couldn't be helped was simply not her style.
"Look, I'll take you back to the Chantry and Grand Cleric Elthina can answer more of your questions."
"I'd rather go get a drink."
Hawke's eyebrow quirked. This could be interesting. Never let it be said that Hawke wouldn't press her advantage when she could.
"Since I was celibate I assume I never approached you for... intimacy?" Sebastian's voice was half curious, half lascivious.
Hawke nearly choked on her beer.
"What? No!" she spluttered. Her voice was higher than she intended and she was sure she got beer all down her front. Sexy, Hawke, very sexy. Why did she sound so mortified at the idea anyway?
"I was that committed to my vows that I didn't try to lie with you?" Hawke didn't know who looked more shocked, her or him. "I have done you a grave injustice."
She wanted to laugh. She, of course, very badly wanted to sleep with him but, really, who said that? She gave him a look of disbelief mixed with a little bit of scorn and drawled, "You honestly think you did me an injustice by not sleeping with me?"
Sebastian's brow wrinkled and Hawke, through the lovely haze of alcohol, wanted to reach out and soothe it with her fingers. Every time she had touched him before it was fleeting and she wondered how he'd feel to her hands if she could actually take the time to explore him.
"No, I worded that wrong." She was disappointed that her mind had to be brought back to the present but, in all honesty, she quite liked his voice so it was not as bad as coming back to, say, the Arishok ordering his men to throw spears at her. Sebastian continued, "I mean someone as beautiful as you should have had my full attention."
Hawke shook her head, shaking her finger at him and making a 'tsk' noise. "The Sebastian I knew would know those lines don't work on me."
"What does work on you?" Sebastian leaned forward and Hawke liked to think that she could smell him even over the fresh rushes on the floor, the stale beer in the air and the unfortunate odour of vomit coming from somewhere.
"Disinterest has done the trick so far," she blurted out, intending to sound smooth but knowing she had said too much with that handful of words. If she could kick herself, she would have.
"I see." He leaned back and resumed his drinking, not looking at her. Was he smirking? Hawke couldn't really tell with his tankard in front of his face. She disliked not being in control of situations. While she liked to live in the moment, she also liked to know she was the one with the upper hand.
Sebastian waved down a waitress for another tankard beer, motioning to both of them. He was ignoring her, Hawke decided, and chided him, "Well, it won't work anymore since I know you're lying."
"I'm not feigning disinterest, Hawke. I still think you're beautiful so I'm getting you drunk."
This time she did laugh. "Anders' assessment of you as good-for-nothing rake was evidently quite accurate."
Sebastian raised his glass in a toast to himself. "That I am. And a constant embarrassment to my father, which deserves another drink as he is now apparently no longer with us." He gulped down the rest of his beer and shook his empty tankard impatiently at the girl he'd ordered from. "That reminds me, Starkhaven awaits its prince."
"You would make an irresponsible ruler."
"Perhaps. But I'd look very good doing it." He grinned, raking his fingers through his usually slicked-back hair. The grin, the action, this different attitude - Hawke was convinced that if she had the lack of self-control that Isabel did she'd have already leapt over the table by now.
She was saved from herself by the arrival of their drinks and she took a large gulp in an effort to calm herself. She had no idea how to handle this new Sebastian. People like this new Sebastian she knew how to handle (usually with a knee to the groin) but this was different.
"You look flushed." Hawke did not look flushed. Well, maybe a little, but it was because of the alcohol and the heat from the fireplace. That's all. "Did you want to continue our drink and chat somewhere private?"
That grin was back as he toyed with his tankard of beer and Hawke chuckled, shaking her head a little as she put her tankard down and said, "You are incorrigible, Sebastian Vael, but fortuitously I do have some wines at home that need to be drunk."
He didn't even bother to finish his new tankard of beer, instead standing on slightly wobbly legs and offering his arm to Hawke.
"Mmrugh," she replied, pushing her head under her pillow.
"It seems I have regained some of my memory." She felt a chill against her skin as the blankets were lifted off her. There was something vaguely wrong about this situation to her sleep-addled mind. Sebastian continued in a slightly strangled voice, "But not all. We are naked."
Hawke's eyes snapped open, and her body became rigid as she slowly slid her head from under the pillow to look at the Prince of Starkhaven... well, stark naked. The thought almost made her dissolve into giggles, which she was sure she could convincingly pass off for hysteria right now.
"I'm... sorry?" It was inadequate and, really, if they had actually had sex (which Hawke was not entirely sure of simply because she lacked any signs of it at the moment) then she would be very much not sorry.
"It seems I am not very good at being a brother of the Chantry," he sighed, falling back against the bed.
Hawke suddenly felt a little sorry for him. She had pressed her advantage, gotten what she wanted, and now he had remembered his vows. This solidified Hawke's notion that she could sometimes be an awful person.
"We might not have done anything," Hawke offered. "I don't remember. Do you remember? We can assume nothing happened." By 'we' she meant 'he' as she was definitely going to cherish the thought that they had had sex.
He smiled. Hawke would have likened it to the sun coming out behind the clouds if she were a bit more romantic. "That is very kind of you, Hawke, but I feel I have broken my vows."
Sebastian picked his smalls off the ground next to the bed and tried to be as dignified and non-offensive as possible as he went around the room finding his clothes and armour. Hawke had no shame in watching him slowly re-dress himself and found herself wishing she hadn't drunk so much so she could remember what actually happened last night. She wanted to remember what his skin felt like, what he smelled like with all the armour gone, what his mouth tasted like (most probably beer and wine...), how he sounded on the cusp of ecstasy, how he looked bathed in flickering lamplight as they caught their breath afterwards.
"I should go to the Chantry and confess," Sebastian said as he strapped the quiver of arrows to his waist.
"I really wish you wouldn't," she mumbled to herself, looking out the window of her room. The sky had no right to be that blue and clear right now.
Hawke looked back at Sebastian to find him staring at her with those piercing eyes that she felt sometimes saw a little too much. He strode back over to the bed, leaning over her. This time she could smell him - metal polish, tanned leather, oiled fur, a hint of the Chantry's incense and something that was very uniquely Sebastian. She felt like she was drunk all over again.
"Know that it is not easy saying no to you, Hawke." It felt like her heart was in her throat and she was sure he could see her pulse fluttering in rapture on her neck. "To resist breaking my vows to reclaim Starkhaven is painful but resisting breaking my vows to claim you is often times unbearable."
Hawke had a limited capacity to feel things like shame but she felt it now. "I'm sorry, Sebastian, truly, but I also regret nothing."
"I regret taking my vows," Sebastian said with all seriousness. He placed a light kiss on her forehead, chaste but at the same time overwhelmingly sweet, before making a hasty retreat.
Hawke flopped back on the bed. Usually she had sated her curiosity by now and was more than willing to move on to the next person who intrigued her. It was probably still there because she didn't really remember what happened. Maybe also she felt a little guilty for making him break his vows and this was just some residual feeling of wanting to make things right with him. No, this didn't feel like her normal wanting. She frowned, then it dawned on her.
Well, shit. Sebastian Vael has gotten under my skin.
All/Most of Hawke's party somehow loses most of their 'short-term' memory (or more, if they're in act 3).
So Sebastian going to the chantry? What are you talking about I can't be celibate, I'm a frickin' prince.
Anders and justice? What do you mean those weird thoughts aren't just me being fucked up? Wait, what happened to Ser-Pounce-A-Lot?
Merril living in the alienage? What do you mean I left the Keeper? Me, a blood mage? What are you on about.
Curious how this would work out! I'm waiting for crack but 'serious' fills are fine and if anyone puts in a romance I have no preference :D