Fenris took a deep breath to prepare himself for the 97th time this night as he gazed across the rooftops of Kirkwall. The Amells must have been a powerful family, he thought. The only roofs higher than Hawke's estate was the Viscount's castle and the Chantry towers. Fenris shuddered, but not from the wind. He had been sitting on Hawke's roof for four nights in a row now, trying to convince himself to climb down through her window (his usual entrance, with her permission of course- He didn't like the cold stares he got from the noble families when he used the front door, and she had invited him to use her bedroom window, which was out of sight from any wandering eyes) to apologize for his behavior five nights ago. Every night he had waited until she had gone to bed, and he told himself that he shouldn't wake her up. Every morning he had been still too ashamed to face her, and during the afternoon he refused to appear before her in front of the others. I'll look like a coward if I reappear in front of everyone, as if I can't face her alone. He stubbornly pushed away the little voice in his ear that reminded him, You can't face her alone. It's been five nights now, and you still can't do it.

How many foes and challenges had he faced on his own? He had escaped hunters, fought giant poisonous spiders, defeated a dragon, for the love of Andraste, and yet he could not muster the courage to place himself in front of this woman.

"A formidable woman," he muttered bitterly for the 378th time in four nights. "A woman who has expert knowledge of tearing down her opponents with an arsenal of blades and hand grenades and who knows what else…" He was not confident he could win a fair fight against her.

The window below him creaked open and a light shone from the room, and Fenris scrambled quietly to the edge of the roof, heart pounding. This time…

"Thank you for the soup, Orana, it was really lovely," he heard Hawke calling. Orana? Fenris had never heard the name before.

"I will bring some hot towels for your feet, my lady, I'm sure you had a very hard day," a young girl replied, and Fenris could picture the scared elvhen girl they had rescued in the Holding Caves. So she had found Hawke's home.

"There's no need, Orana, really," Hawke said, and Fenris could hear her smile. "Here," He heard the clink of coin and Orana stammering. "You deserve this," he heard Hawke say, her voice firm, "You aren't a slave anymore, you're getting paid now. And let me know whenever you'd like some time off"-Orana gave a squeak of surprise- "Yes, you get time off whenever you need. And I'll make sure of it, even if you don't let me know."

Fenris listened to the stammering thanks of Orana and Hawke closing her bedroom door and felt his inside swell with… he wasn't sure. Gratitude? Yes, but this felt different. He felt the same sensation that he had had when she had kissed him in the Lowtown alley… the simultaneous feeling of being about to burst while melting. He needed to see her, he needed to talk to her, to have her talk to him, look at him, touch him…

Fenris threw himself off the edge of the roof and swung gracefully through the window.

"Hawke-"

A poison flask narrowly missed his face as he turned to face the source, and he heard it crash among the roof tiles below. He stared blankly, thrown off and confused.

Hawke was standing still on the other end of the room, a tar bomb in one hand, arm raised and ready to throw, and in the other, a pair of her armored leggings. She looked stunned, eyes wide and her mouth gaping open. Fenris stared at this bizarre sight, and as soon as he wondered why she was trying to attack him with a pair of pants, he understood. He had walked in on her undressing.

"I- Hawke-" he stammered and backed into the wall, feeling his face flush and his markings glowing faintly.

It was as though someone had made time move again. Hawke blinked, and her expression turned from surprise to relief to rage, and she dropped the armor and the tar bomb, which rolled along the rug under her work table.

"Hawke, forgive me, I-"

"AAAUUGHH!" Hawke gave a roar, and before Fenris fully saw what was happening, she had launched herself across her room, picking up random items as she went.

Fenris dodged something large and round. He looked back at the object. It was a pillow. What-

WOOMPH.

Something soft hit him in square in the face, and with such force that he was knocked back a few steps. He looked up, starting to panic in his confusion, and saw Hawke in all her bare legged rage, leaping off her bed and throwing her cushions at him. He dodged them again, his hands in front of him, and she began picking up other objects to throw.

"FIVE DAYS!"

Fenris caught a glass vial with blue sand and hurriedly put in on the floor behind him-

"YOU DISAPPEARED-"

A silver herb knife whizzed past his ear and stabbed into the wall-

"DIDN'T KNOW WHERE YOU HAD GONE-"

He swatted a mabari collar away from his face-

"SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU-"

He caught a miasmic flask inches away from hitting the ground-

"I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT'VE GOTTEN CAUGHT AGAIN, I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT'VE LEFT ME, I THOUGHT YOU WENT TO GO HUNT DANARIUS ON YOUR OWN-"

Three books flew past him and thudded against the wall behind him.

"YOU…. YOU…"

Hawke was looking around, panting, face flushed in marvelous contrast against her tattoos, desperate for something else to throw at him. Fenris took his chance while she was distracted and charged at her, wrapping his arms around her waist and tackling her onto the bed.

"FENRIS-" she roared again, "LET- ME- GO-" she hammered on his back, but he refused.

"No," he said, his voice muffled by the blankets. He lifted himself slightly to free his nose and mouth and looked down at her, grabbing her wrists and holding them to his chest with one hand so she couldn't hit him, supporting himself above her with his other arm.

"Not unless you listen- you don't need to accept my apology!" he added quickly at the look on her face, "Just… listen. Please." He looked at her desperately, and she stared back at him, still breathing heavily from yelling.

There was a sharp rap on the door, and they heard her mother's worried voice. "Faelan? Faelan, are you in there? Is everything alright, dear?"

Hawke didn't take her eyes off of Fenris as she replied, calming her voice, "Yes, mother, don't worry. Fenris is here, he just surprised me."

They heard her laugh. "Ah, I see. Hello, Fenris. I'm glad to hear you're back, you did worry her you know."

Fenris smiled weakly at Hawke, who glared at him. "Yes, I'm aware. Thank you, serah."

They listened to her move away and close her own chamber door, and stared at each other in silence.

"Well?" Hawke shot at him.

"Er…" he blinked, and he looked down at her as though seeing her for the first time again. He had never seen her so indignant, she had never lifted a finger at him, and it had scared him into silence for a moment. But now he looked at her, glaring at him from beneath him, in nothing but her undershirt and shorts, and he had to suppress a grin. He had never seen her de-armored before, and now he found it comical that she had tried to attack him with pillows and books rather than her usual weapons, which were lying at a safe distance away on her work table. Even so, he kept a firm grip on her wrists. He knew she didn't have to have any weapons in order to do significant damage to someone if she wanted to.

"I'm sorry," he continued, "I just…" he trailed off. Maker, she really was so beautiful. He could barely remember why he hadn't come to her before; just seeing her, feeling her in front of him made him so happy. "Er… Would you like to put on something else…?" He nodded at her bare legs.

She raised her eyebrows at him in a "just shut up about that and get on with it" sort of way, so he went on. "I became too overwhelmed. I took my anger out on you, and you have done nothing at all to deserve it. I left because I needed to be alone. When I was a slave…" he lowered his gaze and spoke to her hands, unable to look at her eyes. "Hadriana was a torment. She would ridicule me. Deny my meals. Hound my sleep… Because of her status, I was powerless to respond- and she knew it. The thought of her slipping out of my grasp now… I couldn't let her go. I wanted to," he added, speaking honestly of the thoughts that had consumed his mind over the past few days, "But I couldn't."

"What do you mean?" Hawke wasn't yelling at him anymore. She wasn't glaring, either. She just lay there, waiting for him to speak. Fenris breathed a sigh a relief, and continued.

"This… hate," he murmured, "I thought I had gotten away from it. But it dogs me no matter where I go. To feel it again- to know it was they who planted it inside me- it was too much to bear. It made me sick, I had to leave. I felt ashamed that I had taken my hatred out on you, when you're the last person who deserves such a thing. " He fell quiet again, watching her hands in his. He loosened his grip. She could do whatever she wanted to him now. He didn't expect her to accept his apology.

Hawke wiggled her hands out of his grip, and Fenris let his hand fall to the bed. She doesn't want to touch me, he thought, She doesn't want to be with me any longer. He made a movement to get up and leave, but before he could, he felt a warm touch on his face. Fenris held his breath as she stroked his cheek gently, brushing away the silver hair from his eyes. He watched her eyes trail along his lyrium markings on his face and neck, leaning slightly into her hand. She rose her gaze back to his eyes and he held it, searching desperately for forgiveness, and she gave it to him wordlessly. He let out his breath slowly, feeling a weight lift somewhere inside of him.

"I didn't come here to burden you further," he sighed, lifting himself from the bed and crossing her room to the window. "I will go now, and let you have your sleep."

Hawke reached him as he placed his hand on the window sill, and took his hand, pulling him around again. "It isn't a burden," she said, "We're friends, Fenris." She seemed to waver on the word, and when their eyes met they could tell they were both thinking of their shared kiss.

He smiled and squeezed her hands gently, touching his forehead to hers. Then he let known a fear that he had had for a long time. "I'm not certain I know what that is," he whispered, released her hand, and disappeared again out of her window.

.:Friends:.

The rest of the week passed with nothing unusual… besides Fenris's return and undeniable good mood, which was noticed by all.

"What's up with you, elf? You're not so broody since you came back. You're more… a dark gray. A very dark gray, rather than pitch black and stone cold." Varric poked.

It seemed that everyone was attributing his good mood to the death of Hadriana, which was only partly true. He had asked Aveline to relay any information pertaining his "sister", but as there had been no results thus far, Fenris was free to simply enjoy his time with Hawke after what seemed like an eternity without her.

He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace in his mansion, waiting. Hawke said that she would come over after she had dropped her loot from today's outings at her home, and that they would practice reading again. As soon as he dropped into an armchair by the fire, he remembered, candles, and stalked off to collect candles from the different rooms. He was setting them up around the open book on the table for ample lighting when he heard the front door creak open.

"Fenris?" Hawke's voice called out from the entrance hall.

He went to the top of the stairs and waited for Hawke to reach him, and lead them into the room.

An hour and a half later, she was blowing out the candles and shutting the book, Fenris rubbing his eyes, sore from concentrating so hard on the small text.

"Good job!" she told him, smiling. He nodded appreciatively, watching her curl up in her usual place by the fire, warming her hands.

"Wait here," he said, and he left the room to Danarius's cellar, where he pulled the last bottle of Agregio wine. He returned to find her in the same place, looking at him with curiosity. He showed the bottle to her.

"The last bottle of the Agregio," he explained, opening it. "I've been saving it for a special occasion."

"And what's that?" she asked, smiling.

"The anniversary of my escape," he said, taking a swig of the dark red wine before passing it to her. "Care to hear the story?" he asked, giving her a small smile.

She smiled as she drank from the bottle. "I enjoy listening to you talk," she said playfully, passing the bottle back to him.

He met her eyes and let her words sink into him. "There are few pleasures greater than speaking with a beautiful woman." She grinned, her eyes flashing at him in the fire light.

Fenris began to tell his story, with Hawke asking questions here and there, encouraging him to speak. Perhaps it was the wine, but Fenris felt at ease with her, willingly telling her with all honesty about his past- including his first escape from Danarius, which he had long kept harbored due to his pain and shame of the fates of the Fog Warriors. But Hawke did not reprimand him, she just listened, with not a sign of disgust or judgement. When he had finished his story, the bottle was almost empty. There was a moment of silence, then,

"This can't be easy to talk about," Hawke said softly.

Fenris finished the wine in one swig. "I've never talked about my past with anyone…" then he added truthfully, "never wanted to. Perhaps," he whispered, "this is what it means to have a friend."

Hawke held his gaze, sending a shiver up his spine. "It may mean more than that," she pressed.

"I.. have never thought I needed anyone… or wanted, even. Because of my markings, it can be painful when people touch me carelessly… But you are unlike any woman I have ever met. With you, it might be different." His words caught in his throat as she got up and stepped forward to stand in front of him. His hands trembling slightly, he trailed his hands up the back of her thighs slowly, afraid that she would push him away. She rested her arms on his shoulders and leaned forward, one knee on the seat between his, and came closer until their noses touched. His hands travelled up to her back, and he pulled her into him by her hips, tilting his head so that their lips slid together like perfect pieces of a puzzle. He tasted her sweet lips, savoring them as though he would never taste them again, feeling her fingers tangled through his hair. Their lips moved together naturally, parting to let their tongues wrap together into intricate bows. Hawke's soft moans guided him on, and Fenris pressed their bodies together, letting go his hesitations from his wants and his needs, ignoring the light sting of his markings and he rubbed against her clothes. Hawke pressed him against the back of the armchair, one hand trailing down his front slowly, until she reached the edge of his vest. She laid a hand on the hard raise in his trousers and he gasped at the touch, illuminating the room in such a brilliant flash that she pulled her hand away to shield her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, holding her so she wouldn't fall back. Hawke chuckled and shook her head.

"You don't have to be," she said, kissing him gently. "I think I pushed a bit much again."

She sat back on her knee, her arms still around his neck. He was breathing harder than usual.

"I think we should stop there for tonight," she said soothingly, stroking his hair.

"I'm fine," he replied quickly, "I just didn't expect it." He didn't want her to leave.

She smiled. "No, Fenris, I don't want to push you. I want you to take it further, when you feel really ready."

"...Thank you," he was reluctant, but he was grateful of her consideration. As his breathing slowed, he began to realize that that flare had left him a little sore.

She stood and gathered her weapons to her side, paused, then walked back to him and kissed him again, harder.

"Good night, Fenris," she said, and he watched her leave the room.

.:x:.

As soon as he heard the door shut behind her, Fenris knew he made a mistake. He prowled the mansion restlessly for an hour before sinking into the fireside chair again. He looked around, torn between feeling elated at Hawke's willingness to be with him and deeply unhappy at her departure, when his eyes fell on a large ceramic vase in pieces in the corner.

The one I broke the last time she left, he thought, snorting. But his smirk slipped away instantly as he remembered the pain he had felt that night, after his markings had caused him to push her away that time, too.

Not again.

Fenris rose from the chair and, without a second thought, climbed out onto the moonlit rooftops of Kirkwall and strode off towards the highest one: the Amell estate.

x

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.:AN: The next chapter will be the smut/lemon scene at Hawke's mansion. Some people don't like reading them, so I'm leaving it a separate chapter to this one if you want to skip! :.