For once, Hawke is content to shut his trap and listen. Emmrich has a way of commanding attention without being overbearing; little wonder that the other man seems to have found his calling as a professor. Even Hawke, who has never been anything close to a model student, finds himself listening with rapt attention as Emmrich explains Nevarran views on spirits. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Emmrich is also dapper and charming, and Hawke enjoys the way his eyes light up whenever he’s talking about something that interests him.
That anecdote about Emmrich’s skeleton assistant is a little too much for him to believe, though. He breaks into a grin, his incredulity plain on his face. “You’re having me on. A skeleton, really? Does he also wear a little tophat and serve you sandwiches for tea?”
He knew the boat was a long shot. “Pity there aren’t any trees around here. With some wood, we might be able to sling together a raft.” He pauses, shooting a quizzical look in Emmrich’s direction. “You say that like Fade boats are a common occurrence.”
He’d intended to further pursue the boat issue, but the sudden presence of Emmrich's hand on the small of his back scrambles his thoughts. He unconsciously leans into the touch, driven by the base animal instinct to seek more contact, more skin against his own. Fortunately, he comes to his senses before he has the chance to truly embarrass himself. “I. Er.” He can’t think of anything exonerating to say, so he falls silent, flushing.
Part of him had known that this conservation was coming, and that same part of him is relieved that Emmrich lays it all out so plainly. Mostly, though, he’s just afraid. Not afraid of dying, per se, but afraid of losing his chance to finally fix his mistakes—to clean up the mess he’d made of Thedas.
He chews his lip, suddenly incapable of looking Emmrich in the eyes. “I didn’t bring it up before, but you should know. While you were gone, I saw my sister. Or a demon pretending to be her, anyway. She—it—seemed to think that I was dead. That I was… I dunno, roaming the Fade out of spite, or stubbornness, or something. I thought it was just a trick, but in light of what you’ve said…” He trails off, unwilling to give voice to his thoughts. “I can’t die yet, Emmrich. I still have so much to do.”
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That anecdote about Emmrich’s skeleton assistant is a little too much for him to believe, though. He breaks into a grin, his incredulity plain on his face. “You’re having me on. A skeleton, really? Does he also wear a little tophat and serve you sandwiches for tea?”
He knew the boat was a long shot. “Pity there aren’t any trees around here. With some wood, we might be able to sling together a raft.” He pauses, shooting a quizzical look in Emmrich’s direction. “You say that like Fade boats are a common occurrence.”
He’d intended to further pursue the boat issue, but the sudden presence of Emmrich's hand on the small of his back scrambles his thoughts. He unconsciously leans into the touch, driven by the base animal instinct to seek more contact, more skin against his own. Fortunately, he comes to his senses before he has the chance to truly embarrass himself. “I. Er.” He can’t think of anything exonerating to say, so he falls silent, flushing.
Part of him had known that this conservation was coming, and that same part of him is relieved that Emmrich lays it all out so plainly. Mostly, though, he’s just afraid. Not afraid of dying, per se, but afraid of losing his chance to finally fix his mistakes—to clean up the mess he’d made of Thedas.
He chews his lip, suddenly incapable of looking Emmrich in the eyes. “I didn’t bring it up before, but you should know. While you were gone, I saw my sister. Or a demon pretending to be her, anyway. She—it—seemed to think that I was dead. That I was… I dunno, roaming the Fade out of spite, or stubbornness, or something. I thought it was just a trick, but in light of what you’ve said…” He trails off, unwilling to give voice to his thoughts. “I can’t die yet, Emmrich. I still have so much to do.”