Varric only got as far as “And this is the-“ before Hawke purred, “Why, hello there, stranger.” Disappointingly, the drop dead gorgeous vision of male perfection behind the staid old desk in the partly ruined stone chamber stared at Hawke in pure confusion. Tousled tawny gold hair over a vision of a face: strong jaw, yet something indefinably boyish, full cocksucker lips, broad shoulders, trim hips… “It’s good to see you again, Viscount,” the stranger blinked as Hawke finished his blatantly curious once-over. “‘Again’? Surely I’ll have remembered you from somewhere before, handsome.” “Er,” said the wet dream, and behind Hawke, Varric let out a deep sigh.