A/N: I don't know if this has been done, but either way, I'm trying my hand at it. This is based on the movie Ladyhawke, and if you haven't seen it, you definitely should, its beautiful. The more I thought about it, the more the little details just clicked into place. I hope you like it!

Always together.

Eternally apart.

As long as the sun rises and sets.

As long as there is day and night.

And for as long as they both shall live.

Some people might have said the tale started when Hawke met Fenris. Others would have thought it began long before then, when their fates were first intertwined without their knowledge.

But in Hawke's opinion, it began when she first met Varric, for he was the one who gave her her name.

Arguing with Carver always left a bad taste in her mouth, and being mugged certainly hadn't helped. But she'd grinned the moment she'd seen the dwarf fire his crossbow at her robber and saunter up to him in the easy and somehow threatening way she'd later to come to always associate with him.

The grin had stayed as he'd affected the same stroll towards her, tossing her the stolen pouch of coins and twirling his arrow in one hand.

"How do you do? Varric Tethras, at your service."

And somehow she knew she'd just met her best friend.

They'd exchanged barbs as they discussed Varric's proposal for her to join he and Bartrand's expedition into the Deep Roads, and Carver had been predictably disgusted at his sister's underworld fame. More for the fact that it was she people spoke of instead of him, rather than such talk being in criminal circles.

But Hawke was charmed by the dwarf's easy smile and jovial nature, and agreed to work with him on convincing Bartrand to allow them to join, and Hawke promised to meet him at The Hanged Man later that evening, a bar she'd been meaning to seek out anyway.

The two had shaken hands and Varric had gestured for her to lead the way out of Hightown, saying "Let's go see what trouble we can stir up."

Hawke had barked out a laugh, falling into step beside him. "You're my kind of dwarf Varric."

He'd chuckled and nudged her hip with his elbow. "You're my kind of lady, Hawke."

Carver had groaned behind them, aware he'd just been witness to the birth of a pair of partners in crime.

Heart racing, blood pumping, breath quickening. Powerful legs pounded through the grass, claws digging into the dirt to send him flying forward. Shouts and cries of outrage could be heard behind him, but he dared not turn back. He was not ready, and could not fight them properly in this form. He could only run, and hope to elude them in the forest.

There were too many of them, and they had grown skilled at tracking him over time. He knew he could not run forever, but if he were to face his would-be captors, he would need help. Help he could not ask for now.

Wide eyes glanced to the horizon, which was greying, but not yet glowing with early morning light. If morning came he would have no chance. He was tiring, and his speed would fail him. He pushed himself harder, and only once the footsteps behind him faded did he allow himself to slow slightly. Over the sound of his panting he heard the babbling of a brook, and his ears pricked up. Here was his chance.

He ran towards the edge of the water, stopped briefly to lap up some to cool his body, but wasted no more time. He looked back and carefully as possible pressed his feet into the tracks he had made, so it looked as though he had ran into the water and been washed away. Once his backwards steps brought him close enough to one, he darted up a tree, and crouched low in the branches, glancing nervously once again to the horizon.

The men who followed him appeared shortly afterward, predictably following his tracks straight to the water. One of the men crossed to the other side and proclaimed the trail ended there.

He glanced toward the ever lightening sky and held his breath.

The leader announced that he must have allowed the water to carry him away so that they could not follow his tracks. They laughed at the simple trick and immediately began following the current.

Moments after they disappeared the first golden light of the sun appeared, and there was a brief flash of magic around him as his form changed from beast to man.

Fenris leaned back against the trunk of the tree, sighing in relief. The men knew him well as a wolf and better as an elf, but his trick had won him a brief reprieve. He was weary, but he couldn't rest. He had to reach the docks, and sail away as fast as possible. He had a contact in the city that would allow him free passage to a city called Kirkwall, but it wouldn't help much if his followers captured him before he could get on the ship.

With another sigh he climbed down the tree and crossed the water, before breaking into a light run. He had to reach the docks before sundown, and on no sleep. It was going to be a long day.

Over the next few days Hawke, Carver and Varric met many people, a number of whom Hawke would grow to one day call friends. She learned a lot about the dwarf in those days, as he traveled with her at all times. She grew to love his jovial, easygoing nature in a city of hardships, and appreciated his reliable sources of information. What confused her however, was his curious quirk of giving everyone a nickname. He'd immediately begun calling Carver "Junior," a fact that annoyed her little brother consistently, Merrill was "Daisy," Isabela was "Rivaini…" the list went on. His name for her was the only one that didn't make sense.

She visited the dwarf in his private room three days after meeting him to ask him about it.

He grinned when he saw her walk in. "Lady Hawke," he greeted cheerfully. "Always a pleasure to have a beautiful woman in my room." He waggled his eyebrows at her and chuckled.

Ordinarily she'd have laughed and flirted right back, as was the nature of their relationship, but as he'd just used the exact term she'd come to inquire about, she only responded with a smile and sat at his table.

"Varric," she began uncertainly as he sat across from her. "Why do you call me that?"

"Hm? Call you what?" he asked with a sidelong glance and took a long drink of ale.

"Lady Hawke," she clarified. "I mean, I'm not even nobility. Well, not that you treat nobles any different than commoners, but still. You always call me that, it just doesn't make much sense."

Varric threw his head back and laughed. "I'm not calling you Lady Hawke," he chortled. "I'm calling you Ladyhawke."

After taking a moment to notice the difference in space between the words, Hawke furrowed her brow. "Well, same question then. Why Ladyhawke?"

The dwarf grinned and leaned back his chair, hands behind his head. "You've never heard the story?"

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "What story?"

"It was a book I read as a child, a fairytale. I thought everyone knew it."

Now scowling slightly as she felt like she was being patronized, Hawke continued. "Well, not everyone apparently. Care to share?"

"Certainly. There are few pleasures greater than speaking with a beautiful woman." She knew he said that just to bring a smile to her face, and she couldn't resist grinning in response to his flirtations. That accomplished, he rubbed a thumb along his chin. "Hmm…lets see if I remember…"

A/N: I'll leave it here for now. The fairytale will begin tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed, and if you could, maybe please leave a review? You guys are all amazing! (Yes, that means you too little lurkers~!)

Happy reading! :)