There's one scene that I feel is actually missing from DA II, especially with a mage Hawke and the Fenris romance. Most of the rest of the scenes I've constructed are filler and background and such for MY Hawke. But, this seems to be an actual missing conversation and the only reason I can think of is that they couldn't construct a similar one for all of the specializations ( though, playing a rogue, I think they could have done it for a thief and an assassin. It's not that different than the romantic concern scenes they wrote for the friends to have with Hawke)

But it seems wrong that there isn't a scene where Mage!Hawke confronts Fenris about the possibility of turning her/him into the Circle. I thought about that all the way thru the play, since its clear that there's a story gap in how mages are treated and how Mage!Hawke is treated.

But then the confrontation with Meredith, where she threatens Mage!Hawke with her apostate status in order to get her to hunt down the bloodmages in Act III. And then sends Hawke to get info from Meredith's pet Tranquil. And then this conversation between Sebastian and Fenris about how Sebastian believes it's their duty to turn Anders and Merrill into the Circle triggers and continues thru a bandit ambush.

Now, having had the conversation in the first playthrough, I know that Fenris is basically, "No. If you want Hawke to eat your liver, that's fine. I'm not that stupid." But my Mage, Melisande, doesn't know that and all she got was the first bit before the battle started, enough to know what they're discussing, Sebastian saying "We should turn them in" but not enough to know what Fenris says. That all happened in succession. So she's already upset by Meredith and the Tranquil, she and Fenris have only just rekindled their thing, there are bloodmages everywhere, her brother's a Templar and….a steady sarcastic powerful Mage is suddenly vaguely hysterical.

And now that the author's note is longer than the story...

Bioware owns all, I'm just grateful to play in their sandbox.

Unsaid

Fenris knew she had heard Vael. As much as he liked the prince, Fenris wished the lad would choose his conversation more discreetly. Especially considering what Meredith had threatened that morning. There had been a time, perhaps. In the beginning, he might have considered it, but he'd never seen any sign that she wasn't in control of the power that seethed beneath the surface. Only the opposite, in fact. It hadn't been Hawke who had accepted a demon in exchange for power while they were in the Fade.

Hawke's face had been pale and set, but her eyes had been glowing with hurt and suspicion when she'd abruptly left them after the scrap that had provided him with a not-quite-timely enough intervention to Sebastian's comments about turning their apostate companions over to the Circle.

And it had been him that Aveline had glared at when Hawke disappeared around the corner, borrowing one of Isabela's tricks. "Fix this," Aveline had hissed before turning on Sebastian.

Bodahn let him into the hall. "She seems to be in a bit of a mood tonight, Messere. She went straight to the study."

Fenris nodded his thanks to the dwarf and then stood outside the door, trying to decide if he was hesitating to gather his thoughts or simply because he was a coward.

She was sitting in the tapestry covered wooden arm chair with her feet tucked up under her, staring into the fire. A half-drunk tumbler dangled from her fingers, forgotten.

"Hawke," he started.

"Fenris." She mocked his grave, hoarse voice. Her eyes never left the logs crumbling to ash in the fire.

Ah, yes. She'd heard. She was never so terse as when she was hurt. No way but forward then, he thought, but before he could speak again she continued in the cool voice she only ever used for strangers who thought they were important.

"Come to give me a heads up, before the templars come down on me? " She waved the tumbler vaguely. "You're quite right. I should have snacks out for the hunters."

He moved quickly to the side of her chair, saying "I would never…" but she flung herself away, cup clattering against the stone flags, out of the chair and nearly halfway up the landing stairs and he wondered if Isabela had taught her that as well.

"Don't. Don't touch me."

Fenris had to stop and brace himself against the ragged hurt in her voice. He desperately wanted to slink back out of the room and leave this to someone else. But there was no one else. It was his fault she was backing away from him in a way she had never done, even when everyone else was sure he was nothing but a half-wild murderer.

It was always her comforting him, calming, soothing. Talking him down. How did she do it?

The movement had broken the dam though. She was asking him,"How could…you know what they'd do. They'd slam in here…a full complement for me. They'd throw their Silences at me. I'd feel them…exploding in my head, like my eardrums were bursting." She brought shaking hands up to her ears.

"No." He moved slowly towards her on the stairs only to have her retreat farther.

"They'd fling me against the walls…that Holy Smite, Carver called it. There'd be blood…"she touched her face. They'd seen the effect of the templar powers on mages. Ears and noses bleeding, sometimes even their eyes bled if they fought too hard.

"No." Fenris' voice was louder and surer. He stepped closer. "I would never…" But she wasn't hearing him, nor even seeing him now. She was elsewhere, seeming to see the scene playing out before her.

"You would let them…they would throw me into a cell, in chains." She held her slender, blue-veined wrists out to him as though to show him the binding and he caught them in an attempt to reach her in her nearing hysteria.

"I would not."

"I would beat myself bloody against the walls. I would never submit to them." He was on level with her now, and he could see terror in her wide grey eyes, he could feel it grabbing him. And suddenly, it became very clear what he would do.

"You would let them…" she whispered. "They would rip the soul from my body and you would let them."

"I would not!" He shouted at her and she seemed to see him. He released her wrists and took her face in his hands. "I would die first." He brought his mouth down on hers, hard and fierce, tasting the salt of tears and blood from where she'd chewed her lower lip raw and the whisky she'd been sipping. Kissed her until she whimpered and responded to him.

He pulled back just enough that he was sure she could see him and nothing else. "I will never turn you over to them. If they come anyway, I will be here. They will have to go through me, first. I swear it."