[Competition is her off-hand way of referring to it, but she often is hard on herself. How she fails, how she could do better, be better, and always comes up short no matter the fact she does, generally, try. In her head the Hawke he knows is somehow that better version of herself, and it's all her own hang-ups, but the more she's reminded he doesn't know her, the more she reminds herself it's probably for the best.

It's a strange set of emotions that she'd never put on a stranger's shoulders. Or anyone else, for that matter. Her only real confidante has been Varric ... and Anders, once upon a time. Not a great track record.]

Oh you're absolutely right about that, I know too much, but I'm different. I'm not a mage, for example, which to him matters even more than not being a man I'd say. [She's glad though, to know that Fenris would not let that get in the way of his friendship with any version of her. He's too good of a person to do that.] I just hope it doesn't take a few years. Not that I wouldn't put in another ten.