Hawke: No one, and I mean absolutely no one likes my jokes. Maybe Varric and Merrill. But you’re the only person who finds me genuinely funny. I think.
Sebastian: You’d be right to say so. Do people really not like your jokes?
Hawke: No! And I have no idea why. Maybe it’s the timing.
-
Hawke: What was Starkhaven like? Do you miss it?
Sebastian: It's, ahem, different to here.
Hawke: You can just say that Kirkwall is a shithole. No one's going to dispute you.
Sebastian: I think ‘different’ is apt enough. I do miss Starkhaven at times. Our courtyards, for one, are much nicer.
Hawke: Well, then. I’ll have to visit. Only for the courtyards, though.
Sebastian: I’d be glad to give you a tour.
-
Hawke: I noticed the Chantry’s got forget-me-nots in its gardens now.
Sebastian: Yes! I found some seeds. I believed… it was in need of some colour.
Hawke: Prince. Priest. Archer. Gardner.
Sebastian: Lofty titles, I know.
-
Hawke: You were close to your grandfather?
Sebastian: Very. I regret not spending more time with him during my childhood. I still carry his principles with me today, though I think it’s also made me a little biased towards the longbow.
Hawke: He sounds like a wise man. It really is a beautiful weapon. I never had the chance to learn, but I’m halfway decent with throwing knives at least.
Sebastian: I could teach you, if you’d like.
Hawke: Really? That’s so- I would love that. Thank you.
-
Fenris: I see that you like to remain close to Hawke in battle.
Sebastian: Everyone has a blind spot. You learn that quickly as an archer. As formidable a mage as she is, Destan has one too.
Hawke: I feel safer already.
-
Sebastian: I put a memorial up for your mother in the Chantry.
Hawke: Oh.
Sebastian: Do you… disapprove? I can take it down, if you wish.
Hawke: No, no. I was just surprised. You’re a kind person. I knew that already, yet still you continue to surprise me.
Sebastian: Kindness is the least I can do for you, my lady.
Hawke: I- for me? (chuckles) I’d rather you give it to someone who is worthy of it.
Sebastian: Everyone deserves kindness, Destan. Especially you.
-
Hawke: I planted the seeds you gave me. My sister used to love forget-me-nots. That’s probably why they’re my favourites. Because they were her’s.
Sebastian: My eldest brother liked them, too.
Hawke: Is that why you planted them in the Chantry?
Sebastian: Ah… yes. But that’s not the only reason.
Hawke: Yes, I remember. You wanted more colour. I don’t blame you; Kirkwall is far too grey for my liking.
-
Hawke: I like you, Sebastian. I feel as if you actually tolerate me.
Sebastian: I do more than tolerate you, Destan. I should hope I’ve made that obvious by now.
Hawke: Oh, yes! Yes. Absolutely. Yes.
Merrill: You don't know what he's talking about, do you?
Hawke: No.
-
Hawke: I think I’m going to invite my uncle to the wedding.
Sebastian: Destan, my light, are you sure? It’s your decision, but I want to make sure you aren’t doing it out of obligation.
Hawke: Mhm, it’s a terrible idea. I know. But I feel like finally we’ve reached some kind of understanding. He, um, he waters the flowers. The forget-me-nots. He does it when he thinks I’m not looking or not at home. But he does it. There’s no obligation, just my foolish sentiment.
Sebastian: Your ‘foolish sentiment’ happens to be one of the things I adore about you.
Hawke: You certainly know how to make me blush.
Sebastian: I try.
-
Hawke: I feel like I’m mourning this city before it’s even crashed and burned.
Sebastian: To me, it seems as if you are the only thing keeping it standing.
Hawke: Sometimes, I want to convince myself that the people here don’t deserve it. That I should just leave, let it crumble, have Orsino and Meredith battle it out somewhere quiet so I don’t have to bloody deal with it anymore.
Sebastian: But you can’t. You’ve kindness down to your bones, Destan.
