Awhile back I did a fill on the kinkmeme involving Aveline/Donnic/Fenris in a threesome arrangement. In my mind, this is what happened many years later. However, this is a completely different kind of story, and it really stands alone.

There are only three installments, and they're all finished. Many thanks to Apocalisse (look for her on tumblr) for being a wonderful beta for this story.

In a glen just outside a bustling Ferelden village sat a little house, one so plain and unassuming as to escape the notice of most travelers who passed by. Surrounded by tall grass and bare trees, the wooden structure didn't do much to impress. But the house was soundly built, as sturdy and impregnable as a castle, and Aveline Hendyr loved it.

On that breezy autumn afternoon she had been standing in her little kitchen after shooing the children outside to play and frowning at the mess they had left behind from the midday meal. Sighing, she slowly cleared away the clutter, wiping the oak table and covering the would be hours still until her husband returned, and a bittersweet longing pierced her through at the thought of him. Even after all these years, she still missed him whenever he went away.

When she heard the whoop go out among the children, she wandered over to the door. It didn't take much to get her brood excited. But there was only one thing that would make all of them abandon their games and run to the road, and that was a visitor.

Aveline checked the sword she kept stashed above the door frame (out of tiny arms' reach) and, dusting off her trousers, stepped out into the sunshine.

Shielding her eyes with one hand, her other hand on her hip, she gazed out over the grassy hill where the road out of Lothering curved to pass her homestead. She could see the little ones were jumping all over someone in the pass. It wouldn't be Donnic yet, he was never back before sundown; besides, this shape was considerably leaner.

Even if she hadn't recognized the white hair, the sight of her somber eldest daughter hugging him happily about the waist would have told her it was Fenris, come to call for the first time in nearly a year.

She crossed her arms in front of her and attempted to frown as they all trooped down the hill in a great clump, the children making it terribly difficult for the elf to walk at all. It was a wonder Fenris didn't trip over little Arthur and send them all tumbling down the hill, the way he would cling to his leg as he walked.

There was a delightful chorus of "Mummy look!" and "Hooray!" and "Uncle came back! And he's brought presents! Did you bring presents?" and Fenris smiled at her crookedly, and rumbled, "Hello, Aveline."

It was thoroughly impossible not to smile back. "Fenris. Where in the world have you been?"

"Everywhere," he said vaguely, and kissed her cheek. "As for you, little goblins… Anyone who wants to see what I have brought back from Antiva should go inside and wait for me by the fire,quietly."

"Why does that never work when I do it?" Aveline said crossly as she watched her children clamour into the house in barely-contained silence.

"I never make idle threats," Fenris said, and embraced her. Aveline snorted, and hugged him back. He smelled of the sea. It was good to see him again.

As always, he looked exactly the same. True, he wore proper clothes now, a grass-green tunic and fine trousers that seemed brand new. His hair had grown longer, and he kept it tied at the back. But his face had not changed a bit in all these years, and his hands were unlined besides the scars of lyrium that still marked him there.

"It's entirely unfair," Aveline complained, studying him at arm's length. "We're growing old and you haven't changed at all."

"The one and only benefit of being an elf," he remarked. "Though it will not last forever. And you do not look it, Aveline. You look more radiant with each passing year."

It was not an exaggeration. Though she had added lines to her face, middle age and motherhood suited her wonderfully, giving her a glow of contentment and confidence. Her fine red hair tied carelessly back was only lightly dusted with grey, in a way that gave it a silvery shimmer. Even the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes spoke to a life of warmth and laughter.

Aveline brushed off the compliment. "Hmph. Idle flattery. Just wait until you see Donnic. His hair is going to look like yours before long. It's gone all white at the temples and the sides of his head. I think it makes him look distinguished, but he's rather sensitive about it."

"I must be incredibly distinguished, then."

She squeezed his arm. "Indeed. Come in and let me feed you, you look like you haven't had a proper meal in weeks."

"Not since I last left your home, Aveline."

She lead him inside, taking his pack and his sword and letting him sit by the fire, where four children immediately swarmed him, the little ones climbing into his lap and the older two peppering him with questions.

Aveline chuckled and left them to it.

Among the many, many surprises in her life, the relationship between her children and the Tevinter elf had been the most pleasant. The children adored him, and he them. They called him Uncle, and for them he had managed to coin most of the nicknames that stuck, despite Donnic's best efforts to thwart him by thinking of them first. Fenris told them extravagant stories that she was certain had taken him weeks to come up with, though there were bits of truth mixed in with the flights of fancy, and all of it so straight-faced as not to hint at any difference between the two. He brought them presents from wherever he went, within a strict set of rules dictated by Aveline of course.

Now, he produced four small packages, which were immediately and loudly torn into. For Martin there was a golden spyglass, in perfect working condition, that collapsed into the palm of your hand and could be stored in a pocket. For Mirabele, a puzzle box shimmering with jewels and clockworks which immediately captured all of her attention. For Arthur, a small, perfectly-sized pirate captain's hat (a miniature of the very hat worn by Captain Isabela of the Sea Witch) which he immediately put on his head and ran off with. Looking for a ship to captain, no doubt.

For Doris he had brought three books, with lavish illustrations and tales from faraway countries. One of which was at least partly written in an unfamiliar language. "That should keep you busy," he told her.

Doris, called Dor by most, was by far the most attached of all the children to their strange tattooed uncle.

Nearly from birth Dor had been a serious child, dark-eyed and solemn. She had her mother's red hair and her temper, but not her aptitude for contentment. She held grudges. She worried, and she watched over everyone with utter seriousness. Aveline called her the "little mother".

Doris persisted in winning over her taciturn uncle from the very beginning. Fenris had flatly refused to hold their firstborn, convinced he would hurt him somehow. "They look so… fragile," he had said, somewhat awestruck at the sight of the baby's tiny features, the vulnerable smallness of him. Doris, however, would not be denied. When she was very small, and Fenris still wore his spikey armor, she would climb into his lap determinedly and stay there. No matter how many times he put her down, she would come scrambling back.

Once she cut herself on the sharp edges of his plate. He had stopped wearing it to their home after that.

Aveline could still remember clearly the first time she had found him with Doris sleeping in his arms. He had sat for hours like that, not wanting to wake her up. There had been a peculiar look of surprised tenderness on his face, his hand gentle at her back.

Now that she was older, the two of them would talk a great deal, and Doris would confide in her uncle things she would never tell her parents. She was a bookish child, smart and imaginative. There was not much for her here in Lothering, even after the village had been fully rebuilt from the Blight. She would follow Fenris around like a puppy any time he came to their home, and he would talk to her like an adult, in utter seriousness. And when she became overwhelmed with frustration and worry, Fenris was best at calming her. He would come along and take her hand and they would go for a walk, and when they returned Dor would be restored to a happier mood.

Dor hugged her new books to her chest as another child might hug a doll, and her dark eyes shone. She disappeared into the children's room to hide her books away with her other secret things, in a place Aveline had not yet discovered.

Aveline brought him some of her stew, still hot from the midday meal, and sat with him on the bench. "Donnic will be home at sundown. I suspect he'll have a lot to talk with you about. The Fereldan army has him training the men for Qunari incursions."

"Surely you could teach them all they need to know. You certainly fought your share of Qunari in Kirkwall."

"This lot keeps me busy enough," she replied. "And I'm still involved with the guard here in Lothering. They will bang on my door when there's trouble afoot, and I've kept my blade sharp for just such occassions."

Aveline tried to tell him more about this, but Arthur and Mirabele had other ideas for making things difficult. At random intervals they would shout out "Darkspawn attack!" and suddenly appear, jumping all over their uncle.

Conversation would have to be temporarily abandoned as the elf allowed himself to be wrestled to the ground by two little monsters who would dance away victorious, or else he would fight them off fearsomely and hoist them up in the air by their ankles, to loud shrieks and giggles. When he set them down carefully they would run away to plot their next attack, and Fenris would resume his conversation as though nothing had happened.

After the third time Aveline was beginning to get a headache. "Maker, why I ever thought four of them would be a good idea…"

He could not resist teasing her. "So there won't be another one, then?"

"No. Oh no."

"Five is a good number."

"Four is enough. No more babies."

"I seem to recall you saying that after Martin. And Doris. And—"

"This time I really mean it. Done. Finished. No more. If you want more babies you're going to have to make them yourself."

"A shame." Aveline spotted a hint of sadness in his reply. "You could have your own platoon of flame-haired soldiers."

"I'd rather keep mine out of harm's way, if it's possible. But what about you? I suppose Isabela isn't-"

"No." He cut that line of questioning off abruptly. "One might say she has a crew of rowdy boys to look after as it is."

Aveline had to restrain herself from scowling. She had never quite understood their relationship. For all they had been together nearly as long as she and Donnic, those two had never married, and would part for long periods. Fenris would be deposited on land and Captain Isabela would continue on with her crew, probably shagging everything that moves. He would stay with them in Lothering then, or call on another of his friends, until the pirate snatched him up again to drag him halfway around the world on another of her crazy schemes.

Aveline was hardly an impartial observer, of course. The relations between all of them had been… complicated.

They had all been lovers once, many years ago in the Free Marches. Donnic and Aveline had been newly married and Fenris was a dear friend, and a one-time occurrence became a steady thing. Much to the very buttoned-up Aveline's surprise.

Those were mad times, way back when they all ran with Hawke. A motley group they were. The three of them, the Prince of Starkhaven, the head of House Tethras, Hawke's brother the Templar and a few assorted apostates. Even Captain Isabela had been with them in Kirkwall, and the woman rarely set foot to land these days. They were all so young. Everyone had been a little in love with each other then.

Then Kirkwall went up in flames and Donnic and Aveline had come here, to Lothering. To their surprise Fenris had declined to accompany them, instead going to sea with Isabela. But he had been with them in the building of their house, sweating with Donnic in the sunshine as Aveline waited in the shade, big with her first child. He had been there after Martin was born, when Aveline took to organizing the village a Guard of sorts, to fight off bandits and troublemakers. He had been there when Mirabele had been so ill and Donnic was away.

He would stay for weeks at a time and then utterly disappear, off to Maker only knows where on Isabela's ship. Of course he had an open invitation to their home, to come any time and for as long as he wanted. He had an open invitation to their bed, as well.

That part, of course, had worked a lot better before there were children underfoot. Children were extremely inconvenient for such liasons. Especially children so eager to monopolize all of their guest's time. So it happened rarely anymore. Sometimes Donnic and Fenris would wander off together, and Aveline suspected what sorts of things would be gotten up to, but she could hardly accuse and in the end she didn't truly mind it. It was to her benefit, as Donnic would always return happier, re-energized, and eager.

"How IS the Captain?" she prodded. "Is she ever planning to come back to Lothering? Mirabele barely remembers her, and I don't believe she's ever met Arthur…"

"I always invite her along, but there is always some reason for her to be somewhere else. You are too far inland, or so she claims. You know how domesticity makes her itch."

"Among other things… Sorry, I never can resist an easy target. Tell me, does it bother her when you stay here with us?"

"Not at all. Remember whose idea it was for me to be closer with the two of you in the first place, back in Kirkwall…?"

"Sometimes I think she just wanted us to loosen you up for her own purposes," Aveline grumbled.

She and the pirate had exchanged some harsh words when she found out Fenris would be joining her crew and sailing away. The sudden burst of jealousy had surprised everyone, including Aveline herself. Things had been faintly strained between the two women ever since. Of course, their relations had never been smooth to begin with.

"I have learned," Fenris told her with an unfamiliar twinkle in his eyes, "that it is best to go along with her notions, however insane they may seem. Speaking of which…"

"What's she done now?"

"Well, she has actually talked about a visit sometime soon. And I should probably warn you…"

Aveline groaned. "No. Absolutely not."

Fenris smiled. He smiled so easily these days it was easy to forget how rare such a sight had once been."Don't dismiss it out of hand. She has had some enjoyable ideas in the past…"

"I'm too old for four to a bed. Someone could get hurt."

"Ha. But who?"

"Isabela. I'd have to strangle her."

The conversation was interrupted once again by the children, this time whooping happily that Father was home, Arthur rushing out the door to greet him in his new pirate hat.

Donnic came through the door grinning, hefting his son with one metal-clad arm. "Fenris! You sod, where have you been hiding?!"He dropped his sword at the door and caught up the elf in a hearty embrace, impeded only slightly by Arty and by his armor. "If I'd known you'd be here I'd have come sooner! They owe me some leave after all the extra time I've put in."

"Well," Fenris laughed, "I suppose you're learning that one must curry favor with their superiors, when they're not married to them."

"Ha! Are you kidding? Aveline worked me much harder in the Guard than the Fereldan army ever does." He held Fenris's arm affectionately, beaming with excitement. "Come on, let me show you what Martin and I are building…"

"Oh no you're not," Aveline informed him. "You're helping me prepare supper."

"Oh, right. Looks like I'm on duty, Fenris. This is what I get for marrying the boss."

Donnic retreated to the kitchen agreeably, greeting his wife with a long and tender kiss, while Fenris allowed Martin and his younger brothers and sisters to pull him about from place to place and show him all he had missed, since he had been gone.

After supper, they all sat together in the common room, Aveline and Donnic relaxed together on the chaise while Fenris sat cross-legged on the floor, children clamoring around him. Martin tried eagerly to convince his father and uncle to have a swordfight for the enjoyment of all, which his siblings enthusiastically seconded.

But Donnic declined, saying, "Munchkins, your uncle would defeat me mercilessly, and then what would you think of your dear old dad?"

"And your mother would defeat us both at once," Fenris countered.

Aveline said little. She leaned her head against her husband's shoulder and sighed with contentment at her happy little family, as Donnic squeezed her fondly.

"It's still so strange to hear you laugh like that," he told Fenris, who presently had a child hanging determinedly off each arm.

"Why?" Mirabele asked, in mid-air. She was still in that 'why' phase.

"Your uncle used to be very, ah, grouchy."

"Why?"

"Because," Fenris supplied, swinging her back and forth, "I did not have you little monsters to make me smile."

"Why?"

"Because you were not here yet."

"Why?"

Aveline chuckled. "That way leads to madness, Fenris."

He lifted his arm high, so that the dangling child could look him in the eyes. "I did not have a home before I met your mum and dad. I was unhappy. But not anymore."

He turned the giggling girl upside down, her chestnut-colored hair waving like a flag, and all of her whys were forgotten.

"You could stay," Doris spoke up from a quiet corner. "Stay forever."

Their eyes met. Something passed between them, difficult to interpret.

"I will stay the night, at least," he conceded, setting Miri on the floor. "But I must go in the morning."

"Let me pick your brain then," Donnic interjected, standing up. "I have a new regulation armor, and the bracers on it are just killing me. Maybe you'll have some ideas…"

The two men disappeared to discuss smithery and fighting equipment and the like, and since Aveline knew they could keep it up for awhile, she took the opportunity to draw a bath for her brood and get them packed away for bed.

"Not one word of complaint," she admonished. "Behave yourselves and perhaps your uncle will tuck you in."

Fenris did reappear when they were all ready, his green eyes glittering with amusement and satisfaction as they begged him to perform their bedtime ritual. "Tell us a story!" little Artie hollered.

Arthur and Mirabele were only a year apart, and though quite close they were highly competitive for his attention. They would talk at the same and attempt to shout over each other. Things could get fairly loud."Yes please, tell a story!" "Tell about the dragon!" "Did you meet a dragon, uncle?" "Of course he did, he already told us so." "Well, I want to hear it again!" "I want it more!"

Fenris, standing in the middle of the children's room, agreed to tell the story about the High Dragon he had helped the Champion of Kirkwall slay. "Many years ago, before you were born, there was a mine that would be overrun with young dragonlings from time to time. Until the miners inadvertently freed the dragon from its place of rest, deep within the underground."

Martin was very keen on things like Dragon-slaying. He wanted details. "How big was it, the dragon? Was it as big as a house?"

"It was as big as a castle. We were like mice beside it, scurrying around at its feet."

"Did you have to kill it?" Doris asked, her eyes big and watery.

"I'm afraid so. It had eaten rather a lot of people."

"But there are so few of them, and it was only hungry…" Of course Doris would be the one to sympathize with the dragon.

It was a shame to do it," Fenris agreed. "It was a magnificent creature. But very, very dangerous. Just one of its claws would be bigger than you, and its breath could melt the very flesh from your bones…"

Aveline, who had heard this one before, wandered off to see where Donnic found him slumped in front of the fire with a glazed-over expression.

"Sorry darling," he said as she slipped her arms around his neck from behind. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

She kissed her husband's ear and gave him a squeeze. "Off to bed with you then. Fenris is putting the children to bed, and I know you'll want to see him off in the morning."

"I'm worried about him," he said in a lowered voice. "He seems a bit… distracted. He's not talking much and I can't seem to draw him out."

"That sounds familiar enough," Aveline said, but she frowned.

"But it isn't, not anymore. I haven't seen him like this since Kirkwall. And there's something else… something Doris told me. You saw them out together earlier?"She nodded. They had wandered out along the road just before supper."She seemed a little upset when they got back. I had to drag it out of her. She said they were walking down the road talking and he suddenly went quiet, and kind of… swayed. He put his hand up to his head, like this, and he said they should sit down. They were sitting in the grass for awhile. He told her silly jokes, and acted like nothing was wrong, but they had to rest before coming back."

Aveline laid her head on her husband's shoulder. "You know she's a born worrier. It's probably not as bad as all that. He could just be tired."

Donnic shook his head slowly. "Maybe. We are all a bit older than we were. I told her not to worry, and she seemed to forget about it by supper, so it must not have been too dramatic."

"I'll interrogate him later. You go on to bed."

He chuckled. "Aye, Captain."

They leaned against each other for a few more minutes, the familiar, solid weight a reliable comfort. Then Donnic stood and lumbered back in the general direction of the bedroom, muttering something about vambraces making his wrists sore.

When Aveline came back around to the children's room, the story had concluded, and everyone was in bed. Fenris sat on the edge of Doris's bed, tucking her in, and they were talking quietly.

She did not mean to eavesdrop… well, in all honesty, perhaps she did.

"She has so many rules," Doris was complaining. "Stupid rules."

Fenris chuckled. "She has always been like that. Your mother likes to keep things in order."

"But she has too many."

"I have known her to change the rules, if there's a sensible reason. Think of something to persuade her. If you cannot, then perhaps the rule is necessary." He straightened the blankets around her. "She wants to keep you safe. As do I," he added thoughtfully.

Doris took his hand suddenly, and stroked the lines on his palm. "Why do you have these? You said you would tell me when I was older."

Fenris hesitated. "They are lyrium, as I said."

"Like the stuff the dwarves bring? For magic?"

"The same."

Her small fingers traced the lines delicately. "They hurt, don't they?"

"Sometimes."

"There isn't anyone else like you, is there? I keep looking in books, and there's nothing about people with lyrium in their skin…"

Fenris cut her off sharply. He did not like the idea that she had been researching his condition. "It is rare. I am perhaps the only one. It was… an experiment. To make me strong."

"Did it work?"

"It made me stronger. And it… injured me. It is not a thing that should be done. That is why there is only me."

Dor pressed her eyebrows together with oversized worry. "Can't you take it out?"

"It seems not. I have tried various things, to no avail. But do not worry," he admonished her, stroking her hair lightly, "I am used to it. And it is tremendously useful, when sword-fighting."

"When I grow up, I will find a way to fix you," the little girl promised him solemnly.

Fenris chuckled. "I believe you would." He leaned over her and kissed the girl on the forehead, between wisps of red bangs. "Goodnight, little mother. Sleep well."

He found Aveline waiting outside the door as he shut it behind him."Do you want us to explain it to them?" Aveline asked softly. "I thought we'd leave it up to you."

"No, not yet." He studied the lines of lyrium on his palm thoughtfully. "I have told them the markings make me stronger, but they also make me ill. That is enough for now."

"Martin is learning about Tevinter at school. He might ask…"

"Don't tell them. Perhaps when they are older." Fenris dropped his hand and grimaced. "They have not had to learn the world is a cruel place. I do not want them to learn it because of me."

Aveline could remember when Fenris would tell anyone who would listen about his origins, about being an escaped slave, about his markings, the pain he suffered, the rage he carried. He used that knowledge as a cudgel to beat everyone with. With the children, it was different. They knew a different man, one who laughed, and was gentle and loving.

Aveline liked that man very much.

More delicately, she prodded him. "Fenris… are you well? We've noticed a few.. difficulties."

He gave her a knowing look and then walked towards the common room. "I suppose Dor has reported on me, then?"

"She just said you were tired. And I've noticed it too."

He only nodded, not meeting her eyes.

"Is it the lyrium? It's getting worse?"

She knew that Fenris's lyrium brands had caused him more and more pain over the years; he had confessed as much to her in a previous visit. Whatever kept the lyrium physically confined to the brands had begun to fail, and the poisonous substance had begun to leech into the rest of his body.

"… yes."

"How bad?"

"It is manageable."

Aveline frowned. "You should stay here with us. Climbing around on a pirate ship and letting Isabela drag you across the known world can't be doing you any good. It could be making things worse. Stay with us."

Fenris shook his head. "Thank you, Aveline. But I am happy as I am."

"The children would be ecstatic—"He grew sharp with her.

"Don't do that."

"Donnic and I would be pleased too. Fenris," she took his arm firmly, "you're part of our family. We would love for you to stay with us for good."

"Thank you," he said genuinely. "I am.. pleased with your offer. I will give it some thought. For now, I must return to the ship."

Later still, when he should have been asleep on the pallet she had made up for him, Aveline found him wandering the house, looking at their things pensively. Toys, drawings, her poor attempts at knitting, a figure carved from wood with Donnic's military-issue knife. He would pick them up one at a time and hold them, run his fingers over them.

She leaned against the door frame and watched him for a time."You're getting broody again."

"Old habits." He set down Donnic's carving carefully where he had found it and moved to sit down in his chair, his hands folded in front of him.

"Are you sure you can't stay another day? Such a short visit."

"Any longer and Isabela will move on without me, I'm afraid."

She made a face. "Would it be such a terrible thing?"

"Aveline."

"All right, I'll leave it." She wandered over to trail her hand along his arm. "You should go to bed, if you'll be off in the morning."

"I shall. In a few minutes."

On the spur of the moment, Aveline bent down and kissed him on the lips. A thing she had done a handful of times only, over the years. It was nice.

"You're going to make me worry about you," she whispered.

"Do not worry."

"I'm a mother. I worry constantly."

"Worry for your little ones. Not for me."

"But when will you settle down and stop adventuring? You can't go on like this forever. You're getting slower. Sooner or later it will get you killed."

"It would not be the worst thing. I have had a good life. Perhaps surprisingly," he said lightly.

Aveline smiled at his last statement, irritated as she was with his fatalism. "When did you get so philosophical?"

"… I am not always. At times I am angry all over again at what has been done to me." He paused, watching his brands flicker briefly and die out. "That anger… I do not want to bring into this place, into your home."

"Is that what's kept you away? I hope it isn't. I will take you angry, over not having you at all."

"Ah, you say that so easily. But I know you have little patience for my moodiness. Were I around more often, you would tire of me quickly." He went on before Aveline could interrupt. "This life you have with Donnic, it is exactly as you built it. Calm, peaceful.. uncomplicated."

"You could be part of that. A little stability might do you good."

"Your life… would be neither calm nor uncomplicated, were I in it." He shook his head. "It is enough for me to see this from time to time. A home that I am welcomed to… that is a great gift to me, Aveline."

He was right, after all - in the end, Aveline did not have much patience for moodiness. She decided to leave him to his brooding and climb into bed with Donnic, where she could hear the elf pacing long into the night.

A day after his departure, Aveline found his sword lying discarded in her house, jammed in with the fireplace tools.

"It's very odd," she told Donnic. "I can't imagine him just forgetting it."

A missive to Isabela's ship at the next port returned weeks later in her familiar hand, sounding completely unconcerned.

"Pah. He has a million swords. We pick them up everywhere. Keep it."

Aveline should have known it then.

But she put it out of her mind, and did not think of it again until the day she came home from a visit to the village barracks and found the family gathered together, with Captain Isabela there in the flesh. Finally here, in her house, but without Fenris.

In the doorway Aveline dropped her shield and burst abruptly into tears, because she knew without anyone needing to say a word that Fenris was dead.