Hawke stepped through the doorway and into the great hall of Skyhold with her heavy travel pack slung over her shoulder. Her lengthy ginger locks were pulled back into a ponytail with a worn and tattered bit of leather cord. Her sharp sapphire eyes darted about the gigantic space, searching through the crowds for her trusty dwarven friend to bid him farewell before her journey back out onto the road to wait for the war to blow over, and to be back into the arms of her beloved. She spotted him on the opposite side of the room, holding up a wall, well out of the way of the excitable dignitaries and gossiping nobility. She pushed her way through heavy petticoats and outlandish Orlesian hats to his side. He looked up from the deck of cards he was absentmindedly shuffling in his hands and smiled at her sadly.

"You really headed out already?..."

"Unfortunately, yes…See, Fenris doesn't know where I've gone. If he knew I tried to step between the mages and templars again, and that I put my life at risk to physically enter the fade…If he knew I offered to stay…I…he'd kill me."

Varric's face paled, "Wait…you didn't tell the elf you were here!?"

"No…" Hawke replied hesitantly, "There is no way he would have let me come if he knew where I was going and why…as far as he's concerned I've been back home in Fereldan meeting with King Alister about setting security in alienages to keep slavers from sneaking in."

Varric's lips pressed together into a tight line as he shoved the deck of cards into his jacket pocket and ran his hand nervously through his hair "…And I thought Casandra was going to kill me…"

Hawke's face paled, "Varric…what did you do…"

Varric sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I thought you were keeping him in the loop, so when you entered the fade and didn't come out for a few days and we thought we lost you…I…wrote a letter to Starkhaven, to Sebastian, hoping he could track down Fenris and let him know what happened…"

"Shit!" Hawke groaned, "He's going to kill me…"

Varric smiled awkwardly, "I'm sorry Hawke, you two have always been so open with each other that I assumed…"

"No Varric," she sighed, "It's alright. I should have been honest with him…if I had been left in the fade, he would have felt so confused and betrayed…I really should have thought…"

The door to the grand hall burst open, cutting off all chatter, and a platoon of the Inquisitions best soldiers came stomping in with a prisoner (bound in more chains than seemed necessary) in tow. Hawke looked on in shock as there had to be nearly twenty guards surrounding the one prisoner; each one looked as if they were struggling to keep hold of what could only be described as a wild beast. Hawke could not see the captive's face, but she could tell that whoever they were, whatever they were, they were fighting the Inquisition's forces with all of their energy every step of the way.

Across the room, Commander Cullen looked up from a private conversation he was having with the Inquisitor and some of the organizations wealthiest Fereldan benefactors and glared at the group. As the troops continued to drag the prisoner towards the Inqisitor's throne, nobles and dignitaries alike jumped aside and cowered. Commander Cullen crossed his arms over his chest, clearly livid, and stomped towards the platoon.

"What are you men doing here!? I thought I told you not to bring prisoners through here unless it was for judgement! You are causing a scene." He reprimanded, anger etched into every feature of his face.

"We are sorry sir," one of the men spoke up, voice slightly quivering in the face of the commander's rage, "We would have taken him to the dungeons but…it's…more complicated than that…"

"Explain." Demanded Cullen.

"He snuck into the fortress…and he has abilities unlike any mage we have ever seen…"

"Snuck into the fortress?" Cullen asked in horror, "Impossible…"

"It's true sir." Added another soldier, "And oddest of all, he fights like a madman, but he intentionally did not kill anyone…"

Cullen just glared at them confused.

"I'll handle this commander." Inquisitor Levellan shouted over the roar of the crowd. He stalked down the steps of the platform and towards the prisoner. Cullen stepped aside and the guards forced the captive to their knees. Boiling emerald eyes glared up at the Inquisition's leader through the erie blue tinge of magic, bright red tips of olive pointed ears poking through endless silken white strands.

"Speak intruder."

"What gives you the right…" The elf growled in a thick Tevene accent. Hawke suddenly felt sick to her stomach and Cullen's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Excuse me, you snuck into my fortress."

"And you sent my wife into the Fade!" The elf raged.

"Your w-?"

"Inquisitor, if I may." The commander stepped between the two, "I believe I understand what is going on."

The Inquisitor nodded and stepped back from the prisoner. The commander rose the elf to his feet and huffed in frustration.

"Sneaking into our fortress wasn't the best way to handle this. You are lucky you aren't dead." Cullen scolded, "We both would be in a lot of hot water then, wouldn't we."

"Starkhaven refused an exalted march." The elf growled

"Then Brother Sebastian made a wise and rational decision."

"Where. Is. My. Wife."

"Safe and sound, as you will soon find." Cullen turned and called over the crowd, "Lady Hawke…"

Hawke's face paled even more, "Fenris!? Fenris, is that you!?" She rushed through the crowd pushing past whispering nobles and soldiers to the commander's side.

Fenris's face relaxed the moment he saw her appear. He tried to faze through the chains to rush into her arms, but his magic was stunted; he received a nasty shock instead. The elf grimaced at the pain that rocked through his body. Fresh panic was alight in his eyes as the memories of a lifetime of slavery flooded back. Hawke knew that look, and she too began to panic.

She shoved the commander in the shoulder, "For Maker's sake, let him go!"

"As much as I'd like to, he snuck into our fortress and attacked our men, singling out the Inquisitor as the target for his rage. I cannot in good faith simply…"

"Cullen. You've read Varric's book, you know his story...I'm begging you, please let him go. I take full responsibility if anything happens, just please…"

"Commander," The Inquisitor spoke up, "Release him."

Cullen turned to his leader, confused, "I've seen what he can do Inquisitor and I really must protest…"

"That's an order."

"I-…as you wish." Cullen nodded to his men, and they hurriedly removed Fenris's restraints.

Relief flashed across the elf's face as the shackles clanged to the floor. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before he rushed into the arms of his beloved.

Hawke's breath was taken away by the force of her husband's bear hug. Fenris buried his face into her hair and breathed in the scent of her favorite soap as if it was the air he needed to breathe to survive. "You are alive." He mumbled into her neck, "I was sure I had lost you." He pulled back suddenly and held her face in his hands, "Magic has taken everything from me. I was sure the Fade and its damnable power had taken you too."

"Well it didn't…" Hawke breathed.

Fenris's gaze suddenly hardened, "Good thing too, because you have some explaining to do….as does the dwarf."

Hawke dropped her gaze, "I know…just, let me handle things here for a moment." She took her husband's hands in hers and lowered them to his side before calling over her shoulder, "Varric?"

The dwarf pushed through a sea of skirts and coattails to smile up at the elf, "Come on broody, let's go get a drink. Hawke, we'll meet you at the tavern."

Hawke sauntered into the tavern to take her place at the bar next to her husband and best friend. Fenris, she noticed, was already three quarters of the way through a bottle of fine Tevinter wine by the time she joined them. She took the stool next to her elven lover and smiled at the bar tender.

"The usual." She winked as she flipped a silver his way.

"Sure thing, Lady Hawke….but uh, do you want to keep the silver and have me add it to your tab?"

Hawke cocked her head confused, but nodded, "Uh, no, go ahead and keep this one."

The dwarf nodded and tucked the silver into his belt before hurrying off to the back for a pint of Hawke's favorite ale.

"My tab?" She raised her eyebrow at her companions.

"The elf says you are buying." Varric explained, "Can't say I don't blame him."

Hawke sighed as the bartender reappeared with her drink and hurried off to serve a few members of the Chargers at the other end of the bar.

"Alright Fenris, talk to me."

The Warrior scowled into his nearly empty wine glass for a moment before meeting his wife's eyes.

"You lied to me. You told me you were in Fereldan meeting with the King, trying to help the elves, and all the while you were here getting involved in another war that has nothing to do with you and putting your life on the line for people who don't care about you."

"It wasn't a lie Fenris, it was an omission. I was in Fereldan meeting with the king, and you can ask Merrill, she was with me. Apparently, her clan is the clan the Hero of Ferelden is from. She grew up with her and knew her well. The Hero advocated to the king and sent Merrill as her ambassador. I was her entourage."

"You were Daisy's entourage?" Varric asked, surprised, "Now that's a turn of the tables."

"Indeed." Hawke smiled, "A pleasant one, however."

"If you were in Fereldan, how did you end up here and why didn't you tell me?" Fenris demanded.

"Varric wrote me after what happened at Haven. Once I found out our old friend Corypheus was involved, I had to come. It became my business. As for not writing you…I wasn't sure what my level of involvement with the Inquisition was to be, and I didn't want you to worry. You and I both know you would have killed yourself trying to keep me safe."

"Damn right I would have."

"Fenris, I stayed out of the fight between the Templars and Mages as long as I could not because I wanted to, but because I knew it was what was best for us. The Chantry wanted my head for Ander's actions as is. This however…Coypheus causing the end of the world…it was directly my fault. My father's blood imprisoned him, and my blood freed him. If none of that had happened, the holy war would be over, and the world could repair itself and move on."

Fenris slammed his fists on the bar with lyrium ablaze, causing Hawke and Varric to jump, "You are not to blame for the world ending. The unrestrained power of mages and the arrogance of a magister is to blame. I am angry not because you decided to put yourself in the way of yet another war, I am angry because I know the power you are up against. I've had dealings with the Venitori in the past, Denarius hosted parties for them regularly. I know what they are, and I know what Corypheus is. Denarius would have been him if he had the means and the chance. Any magister would. Any Mage would. They took you physically into the Fade, Hawke. You almost didn't come home, and I had yet another damnable mage, a damnable magister to blame. Tevinter took my life before, and it almost took my life again. If I had lost you, the Inquisition would have answered. I will not go through this again, Hawke. From now on, any time you decide to run off and join a cause you take me with. Do I make myself clear!?" A tear streamed down the elf's cheek, and he brushed it away with the flash of his razor-sharp gauntlet.

"Yes." Hawke managed in a hoarse voice.

"Good." Fenris snipped before downing the rest of his wine in one swig.

A heavy silence fell over their corner of the Tavern, leaving the music and revelry to sound a thousand miles away to the Rouge, the Warrior and the Author. Many heavy seconds passed, and the bartender appeared, disappeared, and reappeared with more drinks for the three before the silence was finally ended. It was Varric who spoke first.

"So uh…since when have you two been married?"

Fenris chuckled and Hawke smiled a warm smile.

"Shortly after we fled Kirkwall, we were hiding out in the Anderfells. News had not yet reached the Chantry's there that everyone and their brother was blaming me for what happened ." Hawke explained, "The circles were protesting Templar rule and war was on the horizon. It was only so long before the story began to twist from Anders being to blame to myself being the cause of all the fighting. We were tired; we knew what Anders had done was going to catch up to us eventually and that we may not make it out alive to run along to a new place."

"One night," Fenris chimed in, slightly hiding behind his glass of wine, "I looked at her and she looked at me and we both knew that this may be our last chance. If we were going to die we were going to die together whether it was physically, or bound only by a symbol, a ring. There were Ferelden flowers, Andraste's Grace, growing along side the road. Apparently, that is rare for the Anderfells. I plucked them and helped her braid them into her hair. We bought two silver rings from a dwarven merchant on the way to the nearest town, and we ran up the road to the nearest Chantry."

"So many thought it was the end of times…they were not surprised to have a young couple appear on their doorstep in the middle of the night ready to elope." Hawke's gaze was far away as she remembered,

"They took us in when the moon was at its highest in the sky, and we were wed then and there with a handful of early refugees as our witnesses." Fenris swirled his wine in his glass before taking a long sip, "That was six months ago."

"Well, shit…" Varric huffed, "I don't think I could have written a more tragic and romantic scene if I tried. Looks like The Tale of The Champion needs an epilogue, or maybe even a romance serial of its own."

"If you are going to write a romance serial about us, make sure it is ten times as smutty as Swords and Shields." Fenris smirked.

"Fenris!" Hawke shoved her husband in the shoulder, face a deep scarlet. The elf chuckled.

"Too bad Isabella isn't here. I'm sure she'd love all the details." Varric laughed.

"Hey guys, mind if I join you?" Inquisitor Levellan smiled as he appeared out of the shadows under the pub stairs.

"Oh, Inquisitor, I didn't see you there." Varric smiled and pulled out a chair for Inquisitor.

"That was kind of the point." Levellan sighed, "I'm hiding from Dorian."

"Sparkler? Why? Did you two get into another fight?"

"I wish. Then he'd leave me alone. No, he's trying to mother me to death. Apparently, some Orlesian daddy's girl who has been trying to get into his pants to consolidate familial power with his family wormed her way into his head and told him about the confrontation in the throne room today. He's been fussing over me as if it was an assassin that stormed into the hall and not Hawke's concerned husband." The Inquisitor reached across the bar to Fenris and shook his hand, "Name's Andrathath Levellan by the way, but you can call me Andy…or Inquisitor. Sorry about sending your wife into the Fade. It was kind of an accident that I was more so was hoping would save our lives and not send me into that creepy place a second time. However, I can totally understand why you might be pissed. Oh and sorry about the guards and chains and whatnot…it's protocol. Lots of people want me dead right now, you see. You're Fenris, right?"

"Ummm, yes."

"Right. Bartender, your strongest ale please." Andy shouted above the crowd. The dwarf slid a mug across the bar to the Inquisitor.

"Add that to Hawke's tab." Varric piped up. Hawke shot him a look.

"Really?"

"He didn't behead your husband today. I personally think that is worth rewarding."

"Once again Varric, fair enough. Also, Andy, I think you should let Dorian mother you for a bit. You face dragons and demons and blood mages on the daily. Sometimes you need to be mother henned to death and sometimes what he needs is to do the mother henning."

Andy took a swig of his ale and slammed it down on the bar, "Bull would have a lot to say about how you just phrased that Hawke."

Hawke's face spread into a cheeky smirk, "Either way, the point still stands."

"Maybe I could used to be 'mother henned' after all."

Hawke and the inquisitor burst into childish giggles at their nonsensical inuendo.

Fenris rolled his eyes, "You'd swear the pirate wench never left."

"At least she's not trying to guess the color of your underclothes." Hawke giggled.

A/N: Ten Points to the reader who can guess where the title quote is from without google.