It was quiet, which was not normal for the city-state of Kirkwall.

Usually the cool night air was full of swords clashing, distant screams, the heavy footsteps of the City Guard running throughout Hightown in pursuit of a thief.

But tonight, it was silent, and Fenris was more than content with that fact. He had spent the entire day at Hawke's heels, following the mage all over the Wounded Coast, fighting Tal-Vashoth bandits that still terrorized the area, clearing out caves full of spiders, listening to Hawke and Varric argue over who had the most chest hair(Varric had won), then dealing with the surprise ambush of a stray blood mage and several shades.

A day in the life of the Champion of Kirkwall, and Fenris was done with it.

When they returned to Kirkwall, the sun was gone. Fenris said his goodbyes, leaving his friends and a game of Wicked Grace behind at The Hanged Man, and let the moonlight guide him back to the mansion he called home. Once inside, he threw off his blood-covered armor, wiped down his arms and face, then grabbed a bottle of wine from the cellar before heading up to the roof. It had become a habit for him in the past year. He rarely got a moment alone anymore, and while he was grateful for the friends he had made, Fenris found that spending time in his own company was almost comforting. A time to sort his thoughts, a chance to meditate, a moment to just let go of everything and enjoy his freedom.

Fenris took a drink from the wine bottle, clinching his teeth as the alcohol bit the back of his throat. A breeze drifted by, blowing his white hair across his face. He closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling the air slowly from his nose. Another drink was taken. Fenris leaned back, one arm supporting him while the opposite arm stretched across his bent knee, the bottle hanging precariously from his fingers. Another deep breath. He focused on the blackness behind his closed eyes, slowly clearing the events of the day from his mind, and slowly letting go of the world around him.

"Bloody hell... stupid sodding ladder!"

Fenris's green eyes burst opened, his short moment of serenity completely broken by a loud crash behind him. He whipped around, white bangs falling over the bridge of his nose, and a disapproving scowl crept across his mouth as Anders stood back up, brushing unseen dust from his knees.

"What are you doing here, Mage?" Fenris growled impatiently, turning away and pushing the wine back to his mouth. Anders walked over to where Fenris sat, leaning slightly forward at the edge of the roof to look down, then quickly moved back.

"I had no idea this place had an attic, let alone access to the roof." Anders placed his hands on his hips, his amber eyes darting to the surrounding homes. "Do all of the mansions in Hightown have roof access? I don't think Hawke's home does."

A groan passed through Fenris's lips. "They don't. Danarius fitted the mansion with one so the slavers could get in and out with being seen by the City Guard. There is one in the cellar as well."

Anders nodded. "Makes sense. Of course, I, for one, would not want to be hopping across rooftops at night. Just one wrong move and splat! What's left of your insides will be washed away by someone's piss bucket the next day.

Fenris stared blankly at Anders, silently berating the mage, who had began to chuckle at himself. Another groan came from the elf, this one more exasperated then the last, and he squeezed his eyes closed. "Again, I ask. What are you doing here?"

"I had stopped by The Hanged Man to talk to Varric, and I noticed you were absent from the nightly card game. Again." Anders replied, still looking out across the city. "Hawke asked me to make sure you were alright."

"I was not in the mood." Fenris grumbled from behind the wine bottle. "Nor do I need to be looked after like a child." He made eye contact for the first time with Anders, his gaze still narrowed in annoyance. "And now that you have seen that I am alright, you can run back to Hawke. I just wish to be alone."

Fenris turned his eyes away, kicking back the bottle of wine then wiping at the small trail of liquid that trickled from the corner of his mouth, sure that the conversation was over and that Anders would leave. The roof shook a little under him, and he heard the scrapping of Anders's boots coming closer. Before Fenris could protest, the mage had settled himself in a crossed-legged position right next to him. Anders straightened his back, folded his hands in his lap, and combated the elf's unwelcome sneer with a smug smile.

"You're not leaving, are you?" Fenris asked with a heavy sigh.

"If Hawke wants to know how you are, then he can come and see for himself." Anders replied.

Silence fell between them for a moment, and Anders found himself looking up at the night sky, smiling as his amber eyes darted among the stars. He was happy to be out of Darktown, even if it was only for a few hours, and it was almost impossible to see the stars from all of the smoke that rolled from the Foundry's roaring fires in Lowtown. Hightown didn't give a great view from on the streets, but at least the air was clear and the stars visible. But from where he sat, the sky seemed to go on forever, dipping down behind Sundermount on one side of the horizon and colliding with the Waking Sea on the other. He hummed in approval deep in his throat, then let out a content sigh. Turning his head, Anders found Fenris was also staring up at the sky, the wine bottle out of his hand and settled between his legs. The elf seemed to be fixated on one star in particular, the biggest and brightest of them all.

Sailor's Promise.

Anders had learned of the star while serving with the Grey Wardens. The star had been used for navigation purposes for thousand of years, always directing the way north for lost sailors and travelers alike. The name itself was fairly new, taken from a poem penned by a ship captain who longed to see his wife after being lost at sea, and of course Anders had reveled in the whole romantic notion of it. He smiled again, a quiet laugh escaping his lips. He then realized he was being watched.

"What are you laughing at now, Mage?" Fenris asked out of curiosity instead of annoyance.

"I, uh," Anders cleared his throat, suddenly feeling foolish under the elf's questioning gaze. "It was...nothing. Never mind. So, do you come up here often?"

Fenris raised a dark eyebrow, then surprised Anders by letting out a snorted chuckle. "Is that your horrible attempt at a pick-up line?'

Anders relaxed, shaking his head with a wide grin. "Maker, no. I can do so much better than that." His eyes followed the wine bottle as it went back to the elf's lips. "Would you like to hear them?"

"No, I do not." Fenris laughed again, the warmth of the wine starting to settle in.

"Your loss." Anders shrugged.

The elf's laugh faded away, and silence once again enveloped the space between them for another moment before Fenris finally spoke "You wanted to know why I am on the roof, correct?"

Anders nodded in response, turning his entire body around to face Fenris, setting his elbows on his knees and resting his chin upon his knuckles. Fenris looked back up at the night sky, his face softening after another deep breath.

"I have told you about my time in Seheron, when I lived among a tribe of Fog Warriors."

Anders smiled. "I remember. They showed you what it was like to live free man."

Fenris returned the mage's warm look. "They taught me many things. Not only freedom, but about their culture, the history of the island itself. Every night, they would gather around the campfire, and the Dancer, the tribe's storyteller, would recite tales of the past. There was one story in particular that she told that I have never forgotten, one that I carried with me when I finally escaped from Danarius." He paused, looking back up at the star that burned brightly above them. "Kaaras Asala."

"What does that mean?" Anders inquired. "My Qunlat is a little rusty."

"Navigator of the Soul." Fenris calmly translated. "The tale is about the first of the Fog Warriors. When they escaped from the Qun, they became lost, unable to navigate the vast jungles of the island. They traveled blindly for weeks, sometimes in complete circles, the few supplies they had brought were almost exhausted. One evening as the sun was setting, they made camp. As they sat in silence, the youngest among them, named Orim, thought he heard a voice calling out to him. Ignoring the warnings of demons from the elders, Orim followed the voice, coming upon a giant white ash tree, one that towered over all the rest. It took Orim hours to climb the tree, but when he made it to the top, there above him was a great star, brighter than all the rest. The voice spoke to him again: 'Taashath, Imekari, kost esaam kadan.' "

Anders opened his mouth, but Fenris raised his hand to stop him. "Calm, child. Peace can be found where the heart lies.' Orim felt a renewed sense of strength flowing within him. He took the words of the star back to his camp and led them through the jungle, his heart guiding him with every step. No doubt, no fear; his eyes always looking to the brightest light in the sky when night had fallen. After a month, they emerged from the jungle, tired and hungry, but free from the Qun. Free to live as they saw fit. Orim was hailed as a hero, named ashikaari by his people. He gave a name to the star, Kaaras Asala, and from that day, the Fog Warriors would spend every night looking to the brightest star in the sky, knowing in their hearts that it would always be there to guide them to freedom."

"That was...beautiful, Fenris," Anders felt a swelling in his heart. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

Fenris bowed his head, closing his eyes for a second, then opened them back up to met Anders's dreamy gaze. "Every night, as I ran from Danarius, I would look to that star I would remember that story. It gave me hope that I too could find freedom as the first Fog Warriors once did. Now that I am free, I come up here and still look to that star, remembering everything that I went through to achieve what I have now." He let out a long sigh, his green eyes going back to the sky. " Kost esaam kadan."

Anders moved closer to Fenris, taking the elf's hand into his own. "And where exactly does your heart lie, Fenris?"

Fenris glanced down at their entwined fingers, giving Anders's hand a tight squeeze before meeting the amber eyes that burned into him. "Here, with you, Anders. If you choose to accept it."

Anders brushed at the elf's hair with his free hand, then settled his open palm onto Fenris's warm cheek. "Of course, my love." He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the elf's forehead. "Always and forever."