Times have changed. Years have passed. Memories have faded…and yet the emotional turmoil always lingers there. In the back of your mind. You don't always remember why the feelings, the pain, the happiness, the grief, existed in the first place, but it remembers you, and stays in the recesses of your rusty mind.

The Qun have receded after the duel was won. The dual which nearly took my life. I made it through on sheer willpower itself. On remembering the people who rely on me. On my ability to accomplish as much as I do. People have begun to rely on me for more things than I anticipated. It will and has been rough, but I wish to help as many as I can. This new home of mine is important to me. I guess it isn't really 'new' anymore, but it will always feel that way to me. The pressure of pleasing everyone is wearing me thin, but I keep pushing through. I will break bone and shed blood and tears for those I have come to love, and the land I have come to call home.

At the moment, we are out on Sundermount, in an unmarked cave, looking for some type of herb for one of the hightown potion and poison shops. I lead our small party through the relentless turns and inclines of the cavern. Fenris, Verric and Aveline trail behind the soft pitter-patter of my footsteps. I overhear some of the small talk Verric attempts to make with Aveline, but my mind wanders somewhere else. To a different time. To when I first stepped foot here, in this new home, this new life of mine.

I can still remember the nerves and jitters I pushed out of my systems as my dear sister Bethany and I neared the gate. The arguments we had with the guards. The years of servitude we were forced into with a dirty guild that did nothing but vile acts.

I used to hate my life back then. Fresh out of hell that was the blight and into what felt like slavery in a town that used to be full of slaves itself. Perhaps the slaves never left, the names and positions of the powerful just changed. Brand new to the city, and I was already paying debts that weren't mine by being forced to serve in a smuggler's guild. Forced to break morals I had. Forced to break my conscious just so I could sleep a few hours at night. Just so I could ensure a future for my sister and my mother. They deserve so much more than what my pathetic uncle has bestowed upon us so far. I numbed myself back then, just to get through the day. Just to get through the job at hand. A particularly difficult objective I was given involved stealing from the poor, from the alienage. I hated myself. For years I would become infuriated every time I saw an elf, not because I was upset with them, but because I was upset with myself for taking something from such a humble people. From a people who knew what it was like to be at the bottom, and that you had to work, and do things you hated to get food on the table. We were in the same boat, and I betrayed them.

I tried to redeem myself as soon as I could. Once I made some coin, I donated it to the elves, to the people who deserve much more than they are given. I didn't have much at the time, just bits and pieces from odd jobs, but I gave nearly all I had, and the rest I gave to my family. I've become rather wealthy since my adventure into the deep roads, so I make a monthly contribution to the elven alienage, hoping that perhaps I might help someone who had been doing vile things get out of that type of life, out of that type of pain.

"Hey Hawke, where's Fenris?" I hear Verric's voice echo from behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I whip my head around, looking for the outline of my elf companion.

"I do not know," I reply, my eyes finally resting downward upon Verric. "When did you notice he was gone?"

"About 10 minutes ago, I'd say."

"Why didn't you say anything then?"

"Because I thought he might have had to take a leak or saw something shiny or went off to brood at some flowers."

I run my fingers through my long, wavy, dark brown hair as I try no to get flustered while Verric smiles at his own witticism. I try to think quickly so that we don't waste too much time in this godforsaken cave.

"Aveline, did you see where he went? Did you hear anyone or anything?" I ask as I turn myself to face her.

"No, I haven't seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. Actually, Fenris didn't talk at all since we got here… I mean I know he's quiet, but he's also quite opinionated. I found it odd that he didn't contribute to any of our conversations."

I nod, thinking over her words.

"Do either of you think he could have been taken?"

They both shrug in response, and I just sigh lightly through my full lips.

"Alright, well I don't want to waste a bunch of time in here, so you two just go onward and find those herbs, and I'll go back to find, Fenris. Whoever's done first, meet here, at this spot, okay?" I say, waving them off with a small smile.

They nod, and continue into the cave, getting back to their earlier conversation. Usually I'd ask someone else look of Fenris since I wouldn't think he'd look forward to seeing me or spending time alone with me after our encounter a few years back. He's still civil with me, still been kind even, but I do not expect him to enjoy my company any longer.

It was nearly 3 years ago now when he came to me in the dead of night. Told me he could think of nothing else, and took my breath away in the heat of the moment. Took me into my room and laid with me. Pressed passionate kisses against me and made me feel things no one else ever could. Then told me he couldn't stay. Told me it was too much. Left without a question answered or an assurance to hope upon.

We haven't truly spoke since. A word here. A word there. A fact here. A fact there. Nothing of meaning. Neither one of us has pushed for anything more. Neither of us has tried to salvage what companionship was there. I let him be. Thought it'd make him happier. Of course it bothers me to no end that he left without a spoken explanation. Left without hesitation. But I don't dwell on that part. I tell myself that deep down he has a reason. I might not know what it is, and I may never know, but I know it must be something that matters to him. If he really used me, he would have left, truly left. Walked out of my estate and never see each others face again, each others eyes.

I get confused sometimes, when we go to visit Anders Clinic. There, Anders would sometimes push the line when talking with me, saying something particularly sweet, and I would see Fenris change, see him twitch in the slightest, as if he wondered how I might respond. Of course I turned down Ander's advances, but did Fenris really think I might not? I don't usually let myself think about topics like this for too long. Not because they make me sad or anything like that, but because I find it a waste of time. Like I stated before, I might never know the answers to these questions, so why wonder? The fact is: Fenris left because of a reason that made sense and was important to him. Nothing more, nothing less. I am just grateful that he stayed to help me fight this oncoming war.

Right…if it's not one thing, it's another. Tensions are growing tight and thin between the mages and the templars. Well, more like the mages and Knight-Commander Meredith. I'm stuck in the middle at the moment. Running errands and pulling strings behind the scenes for both, trying to get as much information on both before I make my final decision. A decision that I don't think should be mine to make. A decision that I don't want to make. But I have a feeling that it's a burden that's going to be thrown on my shoulders on the end just like everything else.

I wonder who all will leave then…Verric? Anders? Merrill? Aveline? If I side against the mages, will my sister survive? Will she forgive me? What will happen to the city of the Circle falls? What would happen if Meredith fell first? What should I do?

I'm too wrapped in my thoughts to realize the trap I had fallen into. I begin to walk past an open door to a cargo closet when a hand pulls me inside faster than I can scream. A hand covers my mouth as I am pulled face first into my attackers chest. I resist, pushing, hitting. I grip my hand around the hilt of my dagger, but before I can draw it, his voice sounds in the dark room.

"It's okay. It's me," he says with his deep, enticing voice.

I look up at him, just in time to see a s small half-smile vanish from his lips. He pulls his strong hand away from my face and rests in between my shoulder and my neck. I can feel adrenaline pumping into my blood, and I try to calm the pounding of my heart.

"What the hell are you doing?" I whisper, a bit serious, unsure what tone I should be using at this point. Unsure of what I am supposed to say.

I can see him here in the dark. A few rays of sun find there way into this small space of ours, and lets me just make out who he is. His features. His armor. His body. But his eyes are what I'm focusing on at this point. I'm forcing myself to actually. I could easily be zeroing in on his hands on me, the way his grip tightened at my question. How my body is just centimeters away from his. How much I want to return his touch. But instead, his eyes are what have my attention. I see that they are full of questions, full of confusion, full of hesitation. I stay still though, waiting patiently for his answer. And then I see his eyes set. I see the determination inside. The answer.

It all happens so fast. His left hand wraps around my waist, pulling my hips onto his as he leans against the cave wall. His right hand trails up and becomes entangled in my brown hair. His soft, silky lips find my own, and I am ensnared in a kiss of desire and fury. I can't even begin to resist him. His fiery touch. His almost minty scent. The need to run my fingers through his hair. My heart hammers to life as I return his advances without hesitation. One of my hands wraps itself in a strap of his armor on his chest, anchoring me to his strong body as the other mirrors his, entwining into his feathery, white hair. I hadn't realized how badly I wanted this until now. How much I wanted him to return. I never would have asked. Not because of fear or anything of the sort, but because I know that the both of us are very delicate in our emotional nature. We repress things that we don't want others to see. Don't want to burden others with the truth of how we feel. I let him be, hoping that one day, perhaps we could be friends once again, but it seems I have gotten more than I bargained for, and I'm not about to complain. I've missed him. I can openly admit it to myself now. I never would have admitted it before because I never thought about it. I always have to be focused on the task at hand. Focused on the burdens and work that comes with the Champion title I now carry. There are so many more important things to think about usually, but I can think of nothing else now.

All I can think of is how I missed this. Him. His strong hands upon me, on my body, in my hair. My core warms with want and desire. I've lost all control now, mental and physical. My want for him is too strong. I'm in too deep. I pull myself closer to him. I feel his weigh shift against the rock behind him.

But then he pauses, pulling away from me enough to look at me, leaving me wanting. I try to be patient as I watch his eyes travel from my own, lingering over my lips, my neck, my collar bones, until they set upon my chest. Watching it rise and fall with my unsteady breath. He tentatively brings his right hand upward, pressing his index finger to where my heart is lying within my body. A blue glow begins to seep from where he makes contact with my heated skin. I feel myself go cold. My blood chills as his eyes connect with mine once more.

"Would you try to stop me?" he asks.

I know what he is asking. He doesn't have to explain.

"No. For it has been yours since the beginning. It has always belonged to you."

I whisper. I admit what I never had the will to before. He has opened me to a different type of want. To a different type of love. One that is born in battle and grows during its lulls. I watch him closely now as his eyes shift, and I wonder how he is internally reacting to the words I let slip from my trembling lips.

"I wasn't so sure anymore…" he whispers. "I let us become so distant. I let too much time pass. You had others who wanted you-"

I cut him off before he could say anything more. I could hear it, the doubt, the sadness.

"I am here. I want no other. You may have left, and I may never know why, but it never changed my want for you…my love. My heart has never left your possession."

Why am I saying all of this? This isn't like me at all, to express such deep emotions, especially to someone who could leave in an instant and never return.

"And mine has never left yours."

And his lips are on mine again, the desire rising higher than I could imagine it being. Our hands roam each other as the warmth returns to my body, the deep set ache I have for the man before me. The elf. The friend. And now more. He begins to trail soft kisses down my neck, and a soft moan escapes me. His grip tightens in response. I can think of nothing else as my mind races with life. With emotions and desires I had submerged for so long. Over three years now. My ache for him reawakens ten fold with every touch, every kiss. I want more, feeling as if I could never have enough of him. I feel his hands leave and hear the gloves he wears fall to the dirt below. This is going to happen isn't it? Once his hands return to my small frame, my own hand wanders to his belt and tugs on it lightly.

I feel him tense for a moment before his kisses become more aggressive. I can feel the heat rippling off of his body. His luscious hair tickling my for head. His aura wraps around me. The reins he keeps on his buried aggression begins to let loose. Time seems to take no notice of us as our armor clangs to the dusty ground. Fenris hesitates here and there, much like our first encounter. I understand though. The past he suffers. The normalcy that was stolen from him. And so young. The thoughts and wants he's had to submerge. Living in hate, in fear. It's hard to break from that. To finally take what you want, when you're so used to being punished for it. Tortured for it. It hurts me to know such things haunt him. And enrages me, to seek vengeance on the ones who did such things.

My thoughts turn as he pulls back to take the shirts and trousers we wear under our armor off of our panting bodies, mine first, then his. We stand not even an inch apart as our bare bodies tremble in anticipation in the cool air of the cave. It's my turn to hesitate, remembering his markings. The pure, raw lyrium pulsing in his flesh, the glow intensifying with every heartbeat. I feel my own skin begin to tingle at the thought. It's beautiful though. His marking. I don't care that they're the marking of a slave. Of a lesser. I will never see him that way. I see him as he is. Fenris. The elf who caught me in a trap. The man who buries his sorrows from the world, but whispers them in the night to me. The equal that has been treated like nothing for too long. The one who I love.

I let my fingers near his warm, enticing skin, but don't yet touch. I don't want to hurt him, to cause him pain.

"It's okay," he mutters, still out of breath.

I don't listen. The last thing I want to do is ruin this. To hurt him. To make him miserable by me touching him. I look up at him, unsure what to do. Answering me, I watch as he delicately takes my hand and places it on his chest, on his heart. Looking upward, I see his eyes close as a sigh leaves his lungs.

"I've missed you," he whispers to me as he opens his eyes again, focusing on me.

A shy smile emerges on my face, emotionally stirred by his words.

"And I have missed you," I reply, no longer afraid to tell him, show him how I feel inside. "Does it hurt?" I ask, looking down at my hand upon him.

He shakes his head lightly, a light smile appearing on his perfect lips.

"No…not this time. It's…different."

"Oh?"

"It feels as though…my body knows you. And it does. And it's as though…it knows you are not here to cause hurt by these markings, but to…make them feel better, as if to heal."

I smile a small smile up at him, happiness filling my heart, knowing that he knows. He knows, even his physical presence knows I would never hurt him. He knows I want to heal every bit of him I can. Love him with all I have.

My fingers lightly push they're way up into his soft hair again, and I slowly press my body into his. The warmth of his skin heats my own. I hear him softly gasp at the contact. I see the want return to his eyes, just as it returns to my own. I lift myself up and kiss him gently at first, testing the waters that lie ahead of us, then amplifying the passion slowly. Taking my time. His fingertips dance across my warming skin, touching every bit of me there is to touch, taking my breath away, making me moan into the open air around us. He pulls me around, having us switch places, me now against the cavern wall.

The anticipation kills me, as I wait for him to make the move, to begin the end to this need we both are trying to fill. I want him now, but I wait patiently as he explores all he can, every inch, he ravishes me. I enjoy it beyond compare. His skin on mine. And then he makes his move, tugging my thigh up to his waist, pulling my hips into his. My senses shift into overdrive, as we become one, as he begins our trek up the mountain we have embarked on. As our bodies mesh together, it's as if we are trying to mend each others hearts. Mend each others scars. It's tender and yet full of lust.

As his thrusts quicken, so do my gasps, my heart, my moans. I can barely take it anymore. He pushes me to the edge of my senses, then pulls me back and fills me with more. I whisper his name into the dark, and he pushes deeper. My grip tightens, I bite my lip, anything to keep myself from going crazy. We're so close to the top now, I can feel it. My eyes can't focus anymore, rolling back, the glow of his skin all I can see. I can't hold in his name anymore, can't keep it just a whisper. We're so close.

And we make it, at the peak of pleasure and want, we tumble down from our efforts with ripples of euphoric splendor within our bodies. It flashes through every synapse of my brain, surging across my skin and deep into my core, rattling me with pleasure and satisfaction. He doesn't move, letting us savor the moment, these indescribable feelings of bliss and oneness. But soon our breathing begins to slow, and as it does I feel him shift his weight under me, laying his head on my chest, his cheek against my heart. Silence fills the room as we try to catch our breath.

"Ebony Jane Hawke," he whispers with a sigh.

"Yes?" I whisper in returned, my heart warming at him saying my name once more.

"Will you read to me again? Like you used to?" he asks, sounding hopeful in our serene state.

"Of course I will. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because…I didn't come back last time…" he trails off. I can feel his jaw twitch lightly.

"Do not worry, Fenris, I will always read to you. Even if you leave again, I will read to you then as well," I assure him as I stroke his hair.

"I love you," he says, clinging to me tighter, nestling his face against me.

His words linger in the air before I soak them in, a smile appearing on my face, and a sigh flowing through me.

"And I love you," I reply, feeling him squeeze me once more.

"I'm not going to leave this time," he says, lifting his head to look into my eyes.

"I know."

"Not ever again."

"I know."

And I do know. It's different this time. He's here to stay. To follow me through the end of this journey that has crisscrossed our lives together. To listen to me read to him at night. To fight with me when the final battle ensues. He smiles at me, his fingertips treading across my cheek.

"Good."