I'd already started this before I heard the party banter on this particular topic. So, no hate for my apparent lack of originality...

Disclaimer: BioWare owns every character mentioned in the following story. I'm just telling a story that they never told.

I frowned, sliding my journal across my desk and setting my head heavily on it in an attempt to quell my pounding headache. I was exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. Not until I finished jotting down my latest exploits. The day wouldn't feel complete without it.

Of course, these days I spent more time "fanning the flames of magical rebellion" as Knight-Commander Meredith would say than doing anything worth writing about. The only reason I stayed consistent was to keep my mind as organized as possible. But I was nearing my breaking point.

Minutes later, as I was seriously considering giving up completely and scrapping all my records for the day, there was a knock on my door.

Not in the mood for one of Anders' or Aveline's late night visits, I harshly replied, "If you aren't on fire or bleeding to death, go bother someone else."

The door swung open anyway, and I was pleasantly surprised to see Fenris enter the room sheepishly instead of one of my more annoying companions. This was a much more welcome intrusion.

"Feeling a bit venomous, this evening, love?" He asked with a cute smirk.

I stood, pushing him into the wall with the force of my embrace. That had become somewhat of a routine in our relationship. We were all about expressing our individual dominance in the form of a hug.

Fenris hugged me back, then held me at arms length in order to decipher some explanation. He pushed my light, loosely curled blonde hair out of my face and cocked an eyebrow.

I just rolled my eyes and playfully pushed him back, settling myself into my chair. "I take quite a bit of pride in my venom, and I'll have you not question its existence, please." you could have sliced the sarcasm with a knife.

He breathed a bout of laughter and leaned against my desk. "Forgive me for my insolence, then." I smirked as he glanced down at my memoirs. It had been 3 years since I'd first sat him down to teach him how to read, and I was quite proud of his progress. His naturally stubborn demeanor had been difficult to subdue, but I was a master of persuasion. And seduction, as it would turn out. He wasn't the least bit uncertain of his abilities as he asked, "You went to visit Varric today?"

I hummed at the reminder. "Yes. And while I was there, something settled on me."

"At the Hanged Man? There's no telling." Fenris smiled to show that he was joking, and I smiled back and thumbed my writing quill.

"Nothing as interesting as Isabela would find, I assure you. But something that perplexed me, nonetheless." I paused to assure myself that he was still listening. Satisfied that an adequate amount of attention was being paid to me, I said, "Varric doesn't have a nickname for me."

Fenris thought for a moment. "He calls you Hawke."

I rolled my eyes. "You all call me Hawke. I don't even think Merrill knows my first name."

He chuckled. "Does that bother you? That we call you Hawke?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "Not especially. It's just that... Varric has a nickname for everyone." I fiddled with my jar of ink. "He called my sister Sunshine before she was locked in the circle, he calls Merrill Daisy, Isabela is Rivaini." I growled. "He even calls you elf and Anders blondie."

Afore mentioned elf struggled to respond. "He doesn't have a name for Sebastian, does he?"

I scowled. "I heard him call him choir-boy last week."

Fenris suppressed a smirk.

I sighed and turned back to my journal, as determined as ever to finally finish. "Whatever."

After a few beats of silence, Fenris said suddenly, "What about Aveline?"

"Oh please. No one would give Aveline a nickname. She'd resent it too bitterly." He looked confused. I smirked and added a few lines to my records. "Anything anyone would call her would be offensive. Anything I could come up with, anyway."

Fenris shook his head with a smile. "Well did you ask Varric why he doesn't address you differently?"

I shrugged. "I thought about it, but asking someone to nickname you is just... Sad. I have too much pride." I closed my journal, suddenly apathetic about the lack of a conclusion. "I don't know what he'd call me anyway."

"Maybe you should prefer it that way."

I eyed him suspiciously. "Why would I?"

Fenris shrugged. "Well, in case you hadn't noticed, none of us were given names that we would have chosen for ourselves." He watched my hand as I traced the lyrium under his skin. "Perhaps he simply respects you too much to give you a demeaning nickname."

I paused at that. I suppose respect would be enough of a deterrent to keep me as just 'Hawke.' He wouldn't want to annoy the protagonist of the stories he relished in telling. "I'd never thought of that." I smiled up at him.

He smiled back. "Besides, you don't need a name defining who you are. Everyone already knows you're in a league of your own."

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Apart from your broody sexiness, of course." I kissed him and grinned. "Thanks for clearing my head."

Fenris smirked. "Anytime, Leah."