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You and be both.

[He grins at her color, but starts when she corrects him.]

What, really? How did I get that so wrong?

[ She shakes her head, still a little flushed. ]

She was my family, really. I didn't have much time for romance, honestly, not with everything that was going on, and even then... Nasrin was my sister. She was home away from home.

I don't know, there always seems time for romance.

[He made time, but that may be because he didn't really want the rest of it. It's not that he wasn't invested, he just never had set out to be any kind of hero or pariah. He was far more interested in connecting with people and building a life. Only things just kept happening...]

But I do get that, home away from home. I had friends like that in Kirkwall. Varric you might know. He was in the Fleet awhile, apparently. I just missed him. Probably wasn't my Varric but I can't imagine he'd be much different.

Maybe I was just unlucky, then.

[ She shakes her head, thinking back. Yes, she might have been proposed to, once, but she'd said no - for good reason - and now... Now she thinks that maybe she made wrong choices that lead her down a path where she couldn't reach out for someone that she might have been good with. It's all hindsight, of course, but it doesn't stop it stinging a little. ]

I never met Varric, no, but I do understand. My friend Harry was here for a little while and I felt the same way.

Well, no use dwelling on missing people when there's not much we can do. I'd much rather celebrate. Here! Happy birthday.

[He holds out the box in his hands, holding it carefully upright. It's just one of the smaller storage boxes that can be found in any one of the fleet's cargo bays, but it's what's inside it that counts.]

Just don't shake it first, they'll break.

Hawke.

[ She smiles, reaching out and taking the box before she moves and settles, sitting down with the box on her lap. ]

I'm being very careful, see?

What?

[Why does everyone always say his name like he's done something wrong? With a small huff of a laugh, he moves to settle in across from her, eagerly waiting for her to open it.

Once she does, she can easily see why he said not to shake it. Ten glass bottles are seated at the bottom of the container with crumpled paper between them to keep them from rattling about and getting broken. Each bottle is a different size and shape, all different colors of glass. A couple are even multiple colors blown together in bright patches and whorls. Another one or two are very likely from Malum, empty bottles of alcohol that would have otherwise been recycled. One even looks like a skull.]

There were some neat ones in the last system so I just started collecting. I thought you could use them for potions.

[ She opens the box and rests it on her knee, leaning over to look inside - and when she sees the contents she gasps, her eyes widening. Slowly, Hermione's fingers dance over the bottles, looking at them all, thumb brushing over the stem of some of them before she turns her head back to look over at Hawke, completely overwhelmed. ]

They're - Hawke, these are beautiful.

Glad you like them.

[He looks the very image of a happy puppy. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.]

Happy birthday, my dear Hermione.

[ Her cheeks flush a little and, careful to put the box down gently, she moves forward and wraps her arms around Hawke, squeezing him. ]

Thank you so much.

[He's surprised at the hug, tensing for a moment before practically melting into it and roping his thick, protective arms around her. He squeezes back, not too hard but its enough pressure to feel the affection he holds for her.]

How old are you turning, anyway? Or am I not allowed to ask that?

[ It's hard for her not to bury her face into him, at least for a moment, because the strong arms - well, they remind her of her adoptive father, of family, a touch awkwardly, and she's not sure now is the best time to even consider voicing that. Instead, she leans back, tilting her head up and smiling softly. ]

It's alright, I don't mind. Twenty three.

Maker, you're still young.

[He laughs, not deprecating at all but instead surprised. She seems so much older to him, wiser, even with the youth still in her face. She certainly knows much for all he can guess she's been through.]

I know.

[ Her face lifts into a smile, but it's a touch awkward. She's scarred, and hurt by the world, and a little sad and lonely, but... She knows that she's still a child in the eyes of some people. She might not feel like it - she protected people, she's fought in two wars, she lead an entire Citadel with help from her fellow Marchioness and Marquises, but...

She's only twenty-three. ]

I'm working on it?

[He laughs at that, a full-bodied guffaw that strains his still bruised ribs just a bit and leaves him to wheeze for a moment at the tail end.]

No, no, don't work at it too hard. Sorry, it wasn't meant to be judgmental. It's just that you're so knowledgeable and still so young. I'm thirty-fiv- no, thirty-six now - practically an old man - and I don't think what I know holds a candle to your expertise.

[He falls back into gentle smile, a bit admiring. He's only known her for a short time, but hearing this, he finds he's proud.]

You're like a big brother.

[ It makes her smile, though, and she huffs a little noise. ]

I only learned it because I had to. When you're practically fighting a war at age twelve you need to make sure you're ready, and that was only the first one.

I am a big bother.

[He grins.]

Twice over at least. Three counting you.

[He has to resist the urge to boop her nose. That would be too much. Especially considering he sobers up a little with her talking about war.]

That's quite young. My little brother was eighteen when he joined the king's army. Some battles just have to be fought, though. The alternative is worse.

Counting me?

[ Her cheeks go a little red, and she lifts a hand to try and cover her mouth. ]

That's how I felt in the Drabwurld. I had to do something to help otherwise I'd lose my mind.

Yes, counting you.

[He's rewarded with blushing and is entirely satisfied.]

That's how it is, sometimes. I hope it ended well for you there, at least, if it was ended before you were taken here.

Oh. I - Hawke.

[ Now she's definitely red, and she can't keep the smile off her face. ]

I suppose it did end, in a way. We were all sent back in time.

Back in time? Is that possible? I mean, I know it is, but that's a long way from being perfected. Sounds more dangerous than it's worth, if you ask me. No one ever knows the whole picture and all the consequences.

[You'd have to be some kind of god, and even then...]

Well, I did it at home. So that I could go to more lessons.

[ She might flare a little pink, then. ]

But in the Drabwurld it was done by the power of our shards - which were far stronger than any magic in the entire world. We all wished for more time to save our worlds, so... We were given it.

[Only you, Hermione, would bend the temporal fabric of reality to attend more school. Not that Adalwolfe is against the school thing. He'd love to have had a safe opportunity to learn like she had, but warping time to do it? That's a bit much even for him.]

Shards?

[He's curious about the many people she makes this sound like were involved all having worlds that need saving, but that seems less confusing than whatever a shard is considering every world probably has something that needs fixed. His certainly does, and Hermione's hinted that her original world had needed help too. Not surprising at all.]

The Shards were... Part of a giant gem that all of us hard. The Drabwurld was said to be the origins of all the worlds, you see, and so when a new world was created it was because the gem had been split and parts of it had gone to form new worlds. I'm not sure if it was to hide or because someone wanted it to hide, but... Either way, there were people born into those worlds that had the Shards inside of them and, eventually, they were brought to the Drabwurld to fight for either the Seelie or the Unseelie.

[ Pursing her lips, she crosses her arms. ]

Shards are powerful, incredibly so. You can literally enter someone's mind and manipulate their thoughts and dreams or their memories. I had only managed to learn how to share memories with mine before I was brought here, and even that took so much strength that I couldn't imagine doing anything else.

I'm not sure I like that sound of that anyway. Having your mind manipulated isn't a pleasant experience and it's incredibly difficult to break out of. I had that done to me once. Wouldn't recommend it.

[He rubs the back of his neck, slightly uncomfortable. He didn't like that feeling of knowing he wasn't in control of himself. Like watching events unfold out of someone else's eyes.]

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