"At Shartan's… word… words… the-sky-grew-b...black. Black with ar…"

"Arrows," Hawke nodded, giving a small, encouraging smile.

"Ah. Yes. Arrows," repeated Fenris. His brow furrowed in concentration as he looked back at the book laid open in front of them; eyes squinting slightly at the candle lit ink even though his elven eyes could see the markings clearly. His finger trailing under the words, he cleared his throat and continued.

"At Our Lady's ten… thousand," he sounded the syllables out as he took in each letter, spurred on by Hawke's nods of confirmation. "...swords, rang from their…. Sheaths….a great hym'n- hymn?" Another nod. Good. "-Rose over Va-la-ri-an Fields glad-ly pro…. Proclaiming… the slaves," Fenris knew this word well now, "were now…. Free." His eyes lingered on the last word for just a moment before his hand slid from the page and rubbed his eyes, sore from concentration.

"Well done," Hawke said, smiling warmly as she tucked a scrap piece of leather between the pages from which Fenris had been reading. She closed the thick, leather bound book with the stamped title, "The Book of Shartan", and pushed it away from them on the table. "You're getting better at this each time."

Fenris gave a sigh, closing his eyes and feeling them throb with relief. He heard Hawke chuckle softly beside him and he turned to face her.

"I had no idea reading requires so much energy," he muttered, watching her replace the candles back to their original holders around the room. The fire was blazing with a warm, dancing light, casting shadows upon her face. She laughed lightly as she sank into an armchair in front of it. "It'll get better as you get used to the letters," she reassured him, "Eventually, it won't require any effort at all." She grabbed a blanket and threw it around her knees, propping herself up on one of the chair's arms and stretching her legs.

Fenris watched her in a silent mix of wonder, gratitude, and confusion as she pokered at the fireplace to stir the flames. No one else had ever been so… comfortable around him. As long as he could remember, everyone had always been too intimidated by his appearance and manner to turn their back on him- even now, with the company he kept; if Varric and Isabella weren't too drunk to stand after poker, they would all be very obviously aware of his presence, even if it was just to give him the room he desired. But Hawke… Hawke always seems so relaxed, even if she was in the room alone with him, as she is now. The way she held herself around Fenris made him believe that she trusted him- not as a bodyguard, but as a friend… a concept that had been foreign to him until very recently.

He crossed the room to join her by the fire, sitting across from her in another piece of expensive furniture that Danarius had left behind. He could almost forget that Danarius had ever been associated with the mansion as he watched Hawke warming her hands by the fire. Through all of the travels and jobs he had gone along with- willingly, for every one, he reflected- he had come to let go some of the suspicions he had when they first met; when he had seen her sympathy towards mages. He certainly respected her strength and vigilance, her drive for justice and constant support of troubled people; even her mercy and ability to forgive those he did not think were deserving.

He glanced at her daggers, sheathed and discarded on the table behind her, next to her pouches of poisons and grenades, and sat back into the chair, relaxing his back into the cushions against his instinctive judgement. No, he did not need to be wary of Hawke… He sat upright quickly at a sudden movement from her, but she was only shifting her weight, crossing her legs. Relaxing again, Fenris felt the urge to laugh, which surprised him. He suddenly realized he trusted the human woman sitting across from him, even though his body seemed to be slow on the new sensation. She had been there each time Tevinter hunters had caught up to him. Never leaving. Each time he had been surprised to find her standing between him and the hunters, refusing to step aside. He had seen her in a rare moment of lost temper, charging down the mage who had led the tracking group, roaring with fury as she dodged the spells to cut him down.

"FENRIS WILL BE FREE OF YOU"

Her words and visible anger- usually so calm, even during battle- had almost stunned Fenris. He had reached her side barely in time to knock back a hunter who had tried to backstab her, and could not explain what he felt even to himself as he drew her to his side to shield her from a volley of arrows, being careful to miss her with his lashes of spirit energy. He only just comprehended her actions as she had lobbed a miasmic flask under his arm and yelled "Go!", and he reveled in admiration as he jumped backed from the gas, watching her aim her throwing knife at the last of the archers. Fenris had always been alone in fights. He had never had a partner he could rely on- he had never wanted one. But suddenly, he was in the company of a woman who not only relied on him, but expected him to be in sync with her actions, to seek aid from her as well. She had no expectations from him but to be her equal, her ally by choice, and even her friend.

Friend. Fenris felt his heart flutter for a moment dangerously close to his throat, and he jerked to clutch at it, but seeing the concerned look in Hawke's face at this sudden movement, he swiftly rubbed the back of his neck, as though massaging a crick.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," he lied, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. She did not look convinced. "Just, feeling a little tight… I may have strained it at some point today."

Hawke frowned. "Have Anders take a look tomorrow, you don't want- oh, come on," she scowled at his expression, but she seemed to be holding back a smile, "He's good at what he does. He's healed you several times."

Fenris looked into the fireplace, fighting an urge to roll his eyes. "At your behest," he muttered, and he saw her grin out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't be like that," she said coaxingly, then made a move to stand, but hesitated. "May I… Will you let me look? If it's a knot, we can fix it and you won't have to go to Anders, if you're so against it." She added the last bit teasingly, grinning again.

He was about to confess that there was really nothing wrong with his neck, but he stopped. Fenris met her gaze. He had never allowed anyone to touch him… only by his master's orders, and healers would never touch him is they could help it. He gritted his teeth and commanded his body to stay put in the arm chair, finally nodding wordlessly at Hawke.

He wanted to trust her.

He wanted to have her next to him again.

He wanted…

Hawke rose from her chair, looking both relieved and pleasantly surprised, and stepped to his side. Fenris felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and his body fought to stay facing towards her as he tried to turn around for her to look at him. Though his expression was illegible, somehow Hawke knew.

"You can stay like this, if you prefer," she murmured, just over the crackle of the fire, but Fenris heard her as though she had talked directly into his ear. He nodded, unable to speak, unable to look away from her bright, warm, amber eyes. She held his gaze, kneeling in front of him and raising her hands slowly to his chest… his shoulders… to his clenched jaw…

Fenris felt as though a warmth was suddenly spread from his neck throughout his body at her touch. It was as though he hadn't realized that he had been cold until she placed her hands gently onto his skin. His heart throbbed again, sending an involuntary shiver through him and a pulse of light, like a ripple, through his lyrium markings. Hawke gasped and drew her hands quickly, and Fenris felt as though he was shaken back into consciousness. How could he have expected her to really want to touch him? Him and his lyrium burned skin… how could he have expected-

"Did I hurt you?" Hawke's eyes were wide, staring intently into his face to detect any sign of pain. Her worry was genuine in her voice, and she had her hands frozen in air in front of her… but she had not pulled her body away from him.

Fenris found himself momentarily thoughtless. He stared at her anxious face and slowly understood: she was not repulsed by him. She was not scared of him. She was scared of herself- scared that she may have hurt him… she was worried about him. He shook his head, still holding her gaze, somewhat confused- this was not at all what he had expected… and yet, he was not entirely surprised. Her compassion and concern for other before her at all times was one of the things he had grown to respect about her, though admittedly he thought it foolish at first. Suddenly, he felt as though his gut and heart had been unclenched by the hand of fear that had grasped onto them just a moment ago, and his face fell into a smile. A genuine, full smile.

"No," he reassured, "I'm fine. I just… wasn't fully prepared… but I'm fine. Don't worry."

Hawke still hesitated, but seemed relieved, and slightly surprised by his smile. She smiled back uncertainly, and raised her hands to his neck again. This time, Fenris took a deep breath in, steeling himself for her touch. He felt her warm hands on his skin again, but this time he could control his markings. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her even if he wanted to. He could smell her sweet scent of her incensed clothes mixed with her natural aroma, and he breathed in as deeply as he could without her noticing. Her eyes fell to his chest, concentrating on her hands. After a minute, she looked back up to him again.

"I don't feel anything," she said, still sounding concerned.

Of course you don't, thought Fenris, almost guiltily. He was almost ashamed that he had allowed himself to fool Hawke for something so simple in order to draw her closer, but the simultaneous lightness and restlessness of his heart that he had never experienced before quelled any pressure he felt to move away. He was almost painfully aware of her hands still lingering around his shoulders.

"You should still see Anders tomorrow if it still bothers you," she added firmly, making him meet her eyes. "Alright?"

Fenris felt himself smile at her again- this time, it prompted a still surprised, but warm smile back. He ignored the quip about the mage healer and repeated, "Yes, alright," granting a satisfied huff from Hawke. She still didn't move, watching him with some curiosity, and something else in her eyes that Fenris did not understand. He wanted to understand. He searched in her eyes for some hint, some notion of what she was feeling, and almost didn't register her hands sliding down, away from his chest.

He felt a sudden panic, a urge to pull her back to him. His hands moved on their own, and Hawke gave a startled little jump an almost inaudible yelp when he grasped her hand in one, her hip with the other. They both froze, unsure of what to do or say, locked eyes and faces inches away from the other.

Without warning, Hawke began to laugh- not maliciously, but a light, amused laugh, and she closed her free fingers around his hand. Fenris gave her a confused look.

"You, should have seen your face," she giggled, trying to contain her laughter. "I've never seen you look so surprised, especially never at yourself!"

Fenris watched her stifle another round of laughter, but could only concentrate on her hand, gripping his back, and the fact that she was not pulling away from him. His face slowly broke into a smile again, and he let out a low, soft chuckle at her. Her stifled laughter died down, and they sat there, Hawke still kneeling in front of him, gazing into each other's eyes; asking silent questions.

Fenris couldn't hold back anymore- he didn't want to.

"Can we stay like this… just a while longer…? I…" He took a deep breath again, "I…" but his words caught in his throat. He did not know what he wanted.

But Hawke did not press him. She touched her forehead to his, gently, and murmured, "I can stay as long as you'd like, Fenris." Her free hand cradled his neck lightly.

Fenris felt a surge of energy, like a tidal wave, flow through him. His skin seemed to burst with energy, casting blue shadows on the walls, and before Hawke could exclaim, he wrapped his arm around her strong back and stood from the chair, drawing her up with him. He pulled her to him, letting go of her hand and burying it in her hair, pressing her as close to him as they could get. Hawke responded, hugging her arms tightly around him and resting her head on his chest.

The force of their movement made them sway off balance, and he caught them by stepping back, leaning back against the table where they had been practicing his reading. He allowed himself to bend his neck, forced himself to ignore how open and vulnerable it was, his heart pounding in his chest so hard that she could surely feel it, and rested his head on her shoulder; his lips barely touching the nape of her neck, breathing in her sweet, earthy scent.

Fenris had no idea how long they stayed intertwined. Perhaps only minutes, but it felt like timeless hours, pure bliss as his aching and longing heart was soothed by Hawke's presence and warmth pressed against him. He hadn't realized his lips pressed against her neck, his body desperately trying to close any gaps between them. Her steady breathing lured him into a dream like stupor, for the first time as long as he could remember completely unaware of anything around him- only that she was there, and she was holding him.

Finally, Hawke stirred, and Fenris was pulled back to reality- but only just. She raised a hand to his cheek and brushed it, trailing her fingers along his jaw and holding him behind his ear, bending his face towards hers. She closed her eyes as she brought his forehead to hers, brushing his nose with hers, but Fenris could not take his eyes from her. His heart thudded away in his chest, threatening to burst through. She opened her eyes again to meet his, and as she tilted her head slightly and her gaze fell to his lips, Fenris felt his breath catch in his throat. His heart beat painfully fast, and he watched her, frozen, and she slowly leaned in closer… closer…. Even closer…

As though electrocuted, his body gave an involuntary jerk and he stood up from the table rapidly, almost knocking Hawke back. He grabbed her again, steadying her, but let go immediately as if burned. He took a step back right into the table and it scratched along the floor a few inches. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heart in his throat…. And then it dropped.

Hawke was staring at him, a mix of bewilderment and hurt slapped across her face.

"I…" started Fenris. He gulped. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…." He swallowed hard again, hoping it would unstopper the appropriate words. "I…" But he could not speak.

Hawke stood frozen for a few seconds, searching his eyes for answers that were not there. Then, so smoothly that Fenris almost wondered if he had imagined all of it, her expression became calm and stoic.

"It's fine," she said evenly, but there was a masked hardness in her voice that rang out to Fenris like a bell. She turned and walked away toward the door, sweeping up her weapons on her way.

"Hawke," Fenris said hoarsely, almost pleading, but he did not know what else to say.

Hawke stopped in the doorway, back toward Fenris, adjusting her knives on her back and pouches around her hips, silent. The crackling of fire and Hawke's tugging through of straps seemed deafening to Fenris. Then her voice cut through like an arrow in a haze.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you so far. I should have been more aware."

Then she drew herself up, appeared to take a deep breath, and before Fenris could argue that she had nothing to apologize for, she turned half way around.

"Aveline's asked me to do a patrol of the Wounded Coast tomorrow, in the afternoon. I'd like you to come with, if you want to."

Thrown off guard by this abrupt change in topic, Fenris could only answer, "Yes, of course."

Hawke nodded curtly, and with a blink of an eye, she was gone.

Fenris couldn't move. He felt stunned into silence and a numb thoughtless state until a flood of feeling returned to him. He swore, scrambled to get out of the room, and called "Hawke!" and ran out to the stairs.

But Hawke was gone.

Fenris fell back into the room, to the chair by the crackling fire, and sank into it, desperately rewinding what had happened, attempting to burn the feeling of Hawke's touch into his memory… but all he could see in front of him was Hawke's hurt, confused, pained expression. Fenris closed his eyes and shook his head, clutching at his hair, but the image would not disappear.

"Fenris, you fool," he whispered, "What have you done?"