"What are you reading?"

Hawke looks up from her book. She turns her gaze to the elf in her bed who, up until now, she thought was sleeping. "Good morning to you too."

Fenris hums in response, pressing his lips to her bare shoulder. Hawke sets her book in her lap, and runs her fingers through Fenris' hair, mussed from a night of sleep. His eyes glance over the title of the book. "Songs of the heart".

"It was a gift from my father. One of the few things that escaped Lothering."

He looks over the worn cover. "You've read this one often."

"It reminds me of a simpler time. Sometimes I miss the days of my youth, before I came to Kirkwall. Before I became the "Champion". Times were … easier then."

"Are you not happy here?" his brows arch in concern.

"I wouldn't say I'm unhappy. I have plenty of coin, a beautiful home, wonderful friends. I have you." She smiles. "I just sometimes wish I could go back to being a simple farm girl. Sure, money was a little tight from time to time, but things were far less stressful than they are now."

"You could never be simple, Hawke. A farmer perhaps. But simple? Never."

She laughs, cozying up beside him. "You think you could ever enjoy a life on a farm? No mercenary jobs, no fighting?"

"It often seems fighting is all I've known. I was conditioned for it. Perhaps I would enjoy a different life."

"So, shall we run away and leave everything behind?"

"If it would please you. I would follow you wherever."

Her heart dances beneath her chest. "You're sweet." Hawke sighs. "Maybe one day. But Kirkwall needs me. Besides, I've built a life here." As much as she sometimes longs for the simplicity of farm life, she could never leave her friends behind. Her merry band of misfits had become a dysfunctional family in their own right, and she loved each and every one of them dearly.

"So, what is that book of yours about?"

"It's just a silly, romantic book of poems. There are passages about friendship, family, but mostly about love. I had very foolish notions about romance as a girl, you see. The world hardened me for a time, and I gave up on my romantic ideals. But … with you, I'm starting to see the colours behind the words again."

"Do you have a favorite passage?"

"I do," she flips through her book, landing on a page that's edges have been folded over time and again. A blush rises to her cheeks. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

Hawke lets out a steady breath, her eyes studying the page for a few moments. "Oh be still, dear heart, beating so fast. My love grows evermore, for a time that will last. In my dreams I see, whom I long for all day. Never wanting to part, do not send my love away. For if I shall draw one more breath without cherished lips upon mine, forever I will mourn, the loss of thine. Thine lips, thine hands, thine flesh, thine heart. Come to me now, never again shall we part." Hawke laughs nervously. "I honestly didn't have to read the page. I've had this one memorised for years."

"Is there a reason why you cherish it so?"

"In Lothering, we were very isolated. Father always told us how important it was for us to keep to ourselves. To stay out of trouble. I made some friends, but I always had to keep them at a distance. No one really knew the real me. I longed to have someone I could open my heart to. Someone I could truly be myself around. This poem gave me hope as a girl, that one day, I might find him. For years, I thought it was a naive dream. Until you. So, I guess you could say this little poem bares great meaning to me now, more than ever."

Fenris stares at her a few moments. "You always see the good in others, Hawke. Sometimes, I wonder what it is you see in me. You could have chosen anyone, and yet, here I am, in your bed."

"I wish you wouldn't think so lowly of yourself."

"A slaves habit, perhaps."

"But you aren't a slave. Not anymore." She places the book down. "You know what I see? I see a brave man. A man who is hardened, yet kind to those he cares about. A man who has been through the void and back, a man who, despite all the hardships life has thrown his way, still laughs and takes pleasure whenever he can. It would have been easy for you to walk away from me altogether when you discovered I was a mage, and yet you didn't."

"To be fair, I owed you a debt."

"And yet, you stayed around long after that debt was paid. You allowed me, a mage, into your home countless nights. You shared wine with me, told me secrets, you trusted me. And that trust evolved into something much deeper. When I look at you Fenris, I am inspired by all that you are, and all that we can be, together."

He pulls her to his chest, holding her close. "You truly are a romantic, aren't you? However will I measure up to those poems of yours?"

She laughs, planting a chaste kiss on his chin. "I don't need any fancy words or proclamations of undying love. I only need you, just as you are."


Later that week while he is home, a letter arrives at Fenris' door. It bears the Amell seal, so Fenris immediately opens it.

Your presence is requested on the third of Frumentum

To honour the name-day of Lady Hawke

The festivities will be held at the Amell estate

Dinner will be served at the sixth bell, drinks to follow

He re-reads the invitation several times over. He'd not realised Hawke's name-day approached so fast. The first few years he'd known Hawke, her mother Leandra always insisted she host a party involving her friends. And each year, Hawke protested any of her mother's efforts, but Leandra always won out in the end. Since her passing, Hawke never made a fuss about the day, and Fenris had forgotten all about the approaching date. He wonders, what's happened to make her change her mind about celebrating? He does not recognise the cursive in the letter, the invitation clearly being written by someone else. He recounts on his fingers the years that have passed, and figures out that she will be turning twenty-eight. It surprises him how much time has elapsed since first laying eyes on the woman who helped him defeat the slavers who sought him out. She'd only been a young woman then, twenty one in age. And he'd been … well, Fenris has no recollection of his age. He tries not to dwell on forgotten years, for such things cannot be changed. Instead, he thinks on what he can do to make her name-day special for her. He knows through observation of Donnic that anniversaries and name-days are important to partners, and Hawke is a true romantic.

Fenris jots off ideas of gifts in his mind. Wine, too common. A staff, too impersonal. Sweets? She could get those at the bakery herself, should she want them. The elf sighs in defeat. He's never been good at sentimentalities. And the woman he cares for holds them near and dear to her heart. Fenris places the letter down on a side table. Perhaps a stroll through the market would clear his mind.


It's a relatively quiet afternoon in Hightown's market. A group of young children chase each other, laughing and screaming with joy, while a bard stands off to the side, singing songs of various tales. Fenris walks from vendor to vendor, looking at their most recent baubles and knick knacks. He's becoming increasingly frustrated with each item he picks up. None of them speak of Hawke - this bracelet too plain - those gloves too extravagant.

"What about a ring?" the merchant draws him out of his stewing.

"Pardon?" His eyes meet the middle aged woman, who is holding up a gold ring.

"You are buying for a loved one, yes? This is a popular item."

He studies the ring she holds up for him. It's a plain band. Too plain. And a ring was … not quite what he was hoping to find - a circle that binds lovers for eternity. Surely, he wants to be with her for the rest of his days but … marriage? No. It's far too soon for such things.

Fenris shakes his head at the merchant. "Another time, perhaps." He passes a few stalls, stopping at yet another, one that sells various trinkets. He picks up a porcelain dragon statue, inspecting it over. Still, he feels nothing. Surely the right gift for Hawke should make him feel something when he holds it in his hands.

"Fenris?"

He places the statue down, turning to see Sebastian. He nods at his friend. "I thought you were usually at the Chantry at this hour."

The archer smiles. "Part of my duty is giving sermons and confessions to those who are unable to seek the Chantry. We often visit those too sick or weak to leave their homes. I just finished visiting Lady Mayweather. Poor thing fell and broke her hip last week." Sebastian inches closer, taking a peek at the merchant's table. "Doing some shopping, are you?"

"I … No. I was just browsing," Fenris says, and the merchant behind him frowns. Fenris and Sebastian walk away from the table, aimlessly wandering about the square.

"Were you perhaps looking for something for Hawke's upcoming name-day?"

"You received her invitation?"

"Aye, just this morning."

Fenris sighs. "Nothing speaks to me of her or her tastes."

Sebastian laughs. "Hawke is a rather unique lady." Fenris can't help but frown. This simple task was proving to be a great deal of trouble. The archer looks to him, concerned. "What troubles your mind, Fenris?"

Fenris pauses, contemplating what he should say. Hawke has encouraged him to seek out a friend, should he need to. And he certainly couldn't outright ask Hawke for advice on what to get her. Uncomfortably, he says, "I can trust you?"

"We are friends, aren't we?" Sebastian smiles. "Anything you need to say to me will not be repeated, I swear it." He leads them to a nearby bench, and they both take a seat. "I can see that there's something bothering you. You know, many find that talking helps unburden the mind."

Fenris takes a deep breath. Sharing his emotions with others never comes easy. "You were right. I was searching for something for Hawke's name-day. I've noticed that with these events … bringing a gift is customary."

"Generally speaking, yes. But, if you've not have the coin, I know Hawke would be more than understanding if you are unable to bring one. If you'd like, there's a few jobs available on the Chanter's board should you have need for silver."

"No, it's not about the expense." Fenris fidgets uncomfortably in place. "I am unsure what to get her. Anything I can think of seems insufficient."

"You want it to be special?" Sebastian asks, and Fenris nods. "You know Hawke much better than I do. I could list a number of things that might suit her tastes. But, the important thing is that it comes from the heart."

"What great help you've been."

Sebastian chuckles. "I'm sorry I do not have the answer you were hoping for." They both stand, but before Fenris can leave, the archer speaks once more. "You care for her, a great deal, don't you?"

Fenris sighs. "More than I could ever express in words."

"In all the time I've known you, it's been clear that she is a special person in your life. Hawke is not one to be impressed by fancy jewelry or fine wine's like some of the other noble women. Your presence alone will be more than enough to make her happy. But if you are intent on giving her something special, you need only look inside yourself. What brings her joy? What do the two of you speak of when no one else is around? Think about what makes her happy, and there you will find your answer."

The men bid each other farewell, with promises to see each other at the Amell estate in a few days time. Fenris aimlessly wanders the streets, his mind seeking for an answer on what to give Hawke. Something that would bring her joy.

'What do the two of you speak of when no one else is around'?

An idea comes to Fenris. Something sentimental for her romantic heart. He makes his way to her estate, knowing she is away with Aveline for the afternoon. Bodahn lets him in with a smile. Fenris excuses himself, and makes his way to Hawke's private quarters.

As he enters her room, he feels a bit guilty for invading her privacy when she's not there. But this was for her. He looks around her shelves until he spots the book of poems. Placing it under his arm, hiding it as if it bears all his secrets, he leaves the Amell estate and heads for his home. He has his work cut out for him.


Hawke stands before her mirror, adding the finishing touches to her makeup. It'd been a long time since she hosted anything at her estate, and she wants to look nice for the event. Mostly for Fenris, but she can't admit that aloud. She'd almost forgone anything for her name-day at all. Her mother always insisted that she needed to do something special, and Hawke saw how much joy it'd brought her, so she allowed her mother to fuss over her, baking sweet cakes and appetizers for her and her guests. But when Leandra passed away, Hawke saw no point in carrying out the tradition. It was an ordinary day like any other, after all. But ever since bringing Fenris into her home, the estate felt so much warmer with his presence. She wanted to celebrate. It was about time she carried on her mother's traditions. Family had been so important to Leandra, and with Carver gone with the Wardens, Fenris was the closest thing she had left. He knew nothing of family, or traditions, or love. It was up to her to show him.

Hawke gazes at her reflection. The dress she's adorned in is royal blue and black in colour, with long, flowing sleeves. It gathers low in the front, not as plunging as the neckline's Isabela prefers, but low enough to bring attention to her curves. She'd been hesitant to buy the dress, but after trying it on, she knew she had to have it. It hugged her curves so perfectly, it was as if it'd been specifically tailored for her body.

After she is pleased enough with her appearance, Hawke makes her way to the kitchen to see how her staff fares with the final preparations. The cakes have just come out of the oven. Over the last few days, Hawke and Orana have tested out Mother's recipe until they perfected it on their own. Cinnamon and chocolate permeate the air, and her mouth water's at the aroma.

Not much later, her guests begin to gather. Aveline and Donnic are the firsts, punctual as always. Soon after, Varric and Merrill arrive together. Hawke smiles at the elf, glad she's taken some time away from her home. Sebastian comes shortly after. Her friends gather in the dining room, feasting upon the various snacks that her staff has made for the evening.

Hawke excuses herself when she hears another knock at the front door. She can't hide her shock when she opens the door and sees Anders.

"You're here?" The mage has slight bags under his eyes, and she can't help but feel a pang of guilt for not stepping in to help him in the clinic in the last few days. She doesn't fail to notice the gift swaddled under his arm.

"Should I not have come?" he asks, closing the door behind him.

"No ... I mean, I did send you an invitation. Of course I want you here."

Anders peers around the corner, lowering his voice. "You've not told the others yet? About you and … him?"

"No, not yet. Soon though, I hope. I hate keeping secrets."

Anders seems agitated, but says no more on the subject. "You look especially nice this evening," he says, and Hawke's unsure if he genuinely means it or is grasping at straws for a change in conversation.

Before she has a chance to thank him, the door behind them swings open with a slight bang, and in saunters Isabela, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a wooden box in the other. She offers Hawke a giant smile, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"His name was Gerald, and he was incredible."

Hawke can't help but laugh. She hasn't had the chance to catch up with the pirate and ask how the rest of the night went with her two suitors. "Glad to hear it. And his friend?"

"Eh, he wasn't terrible, I suppose. But nothing worth remembering."

Hawke eyes the bottle in Isabela's hand. "You know, you really didn't have to bring anything. I would never let my guests go thirsty"

"I'm not a fan of the wine you serve. Too pretentious."

"Of course, silly me."

They enter the dining room, where everyone is seated. Everyone but Fenris. Odd, she thinks, but pays little mind as she grabs a glass of wine and takes a long sip.

"Oh Hawke, thank you for inviting me," Merrill says, her big green eyes lighting up. "I almost didn't come. But I'm glad Varric talked me into it. The walls in my home were beginning to cave in on me. Not really, mind you. It was just beginning to feel a bit suffocating staying within the same room day in and day out."

"There's no way I was leaving you in there tonight, Daisy. If I had to drag you out myself, I would have." Varric says.

Merrill chuckles. "Well, I'm glad it didn't come to that."

"As am I," Hawke smiles, taking another sip from her glass, notes of citrus and tang dancing upon her tongue. "You're always welcome here, Merrill."

Hawke takes a seat across from Aveline, who is blushing and smiling sheepishly at something Donnic whispers in her ear. Hawke thinks of how nice it is to see her friend outside of her duty, where she can drop her guard and allow herself to have some fun. Aveline was built for a life of strict duty, and revels in it. But over the years, Hawke has seen how it has worn on her. She thinks of Aveline as a sister; they'd both lost so much, and came to Kirkwall together. It brings her immense joy to see that her friend's finally moved on from the death of her late husband.

A moment later, she hears the front door closing. Fenris walks in, envelope in hand. He examines the room, spotting the rest of the gifts placed upon the mantle, and adds his to the pile. Hawke smiles at him, and when he meets her gaze, he smiles back.

"A bit late, aren't you?" Anders scoffs. Fenris ignores his comment, taking a seat next to Hawke, keeping a casual distance between them. She notices his hands are stained in what looks to be black ink.

"Have you been practising your cursive?" She asks quietly, her eyes nodding towards one of his hands.

"I … suppose you could say that," he stumbles on his words, distracting himself by grabbing a bottle of wine and filling his cup, and her heart swells with pride.

"I do have a special soap that should help get the stains out. I'll give some to you later."

"Since everyone's here, why don't you open your presents, Hawke?" Merrill asks, passing her present to Hawke.

"Why the hurry?" she laughs, accepting her gift.

"Oh, no hurry! I just … well, I've been really excited to see what you think," Merrill blushes.

"Alright, I suppose I could open them now."

Hawke unwraps the gift, pulling out an amulet embedded with a purple gem. "It's beautiful, Merrill."

"I'm glad you like it. You were very kind in giving me a gift before, so I thought I ought to return the favour." Hawke remembers how shocked Merrill had been when she gifted her a wooden Halla, having never received a gift before.

"I would never expect something in return. Regardless, it's a beautiful gift."

"It's practical, too! It will help prevent your mana from depleting in battle. I thought you could use it more than I could."

Hawke smiles. "I can't wait to wear it."

"I'm next," Isabela winks, handing over the wooden box. Hawke opens the lid. A velvet cloth is wrapped tightly around an object, and when she removes the cloth, she holds a transparent bottle with clear liquid inside.

"Dare I ask?"

"It's for increasing your pleasure."

A few groans circulate around the table, but Hawke's interest is piqued. "Does it now?"

"Oh yes! I've gone through a few bottles myself. It's a very common item in Antiva. You just apply it over your fun bits and wait for the tingle. It will work on a partner as well, but you can use it alone just fine."

Hawke nervously chuckles. "I'll let you know how it works out."

"Please do. And don't leave out any details."

"How about you open another present?" Sebastian interrupts, and Hawke is glad for the change in conversation. She's a bit relieved Isabela didn't make any remarks towards Fenris this time, but that could change in an instant.

"Don't mind if I do."

Gifts are continuously passed to her. Incense from Sebastian, a bottle of fine wine from Aveline and Donnic, and a copy of Varric's latest draft of 'Tale of the Champion'. She raises an eyebrow at the dwarf, who shrugs in response.

"Go over it. It's far from finished. I figured if there's anything you really want me to omit, I'd like to know before I end up being set aflame."

"Smart choice, dwarf," Hawke laughs. She downs the remaining few sips of her wine, and promptly pours herself another glass.

"I suppose now is the time to give you this," Anders says, a little meekly. He hands her an object, swaddled in cloth, tied neatly with a bit of twine. As she pulls open the twine and cloth, a worn book of spells is revealed.

"It's one of the few things that made it with me from the Circle. I learned quite a few handy tricks from that book. Thought I might as well pass along that knowledge to someone else. Not that you really need it."

"It's a lovely gift, Anders." Hawke genuinely appreciates the gift. She expected nothing from him, and knows he has very little means for survival. That he thought to bring her anything at all warms her insides.

"You haven't opened Fenris' gift yet," Isabela notes, taking a heavy sip of her whiskey, giving Hawke a wink. Her eyes drift over to Fenris, and the envelope he's now clutching, having retrieved it from the mantle. Fenris shifts uneasily in place.

"Do you mind if I open it now?" her eyes meet his and he swallows.

"If you wish."

She takes the envelop, opening it with careful fingers. She pulls out a single piece of parchment. Immediately she recognises Fenris' cursive. It's much more legible than usual, and she sees that he took great care in composing the letters. She reads it to herself, and her heart nearly melts.

"Oh be still, tender heart, no need to beat so fast. My affections are true, and forever will last. In my dreams it's you I see, whom I desire all day. Never will I leave, I will not send you away. For you need not ask to press your lips to mine, forever will I cherish thine. Thine lips, thine hands, thine flesh, thine heart. I come to thee now, never again to part.

She reads it again, her heart rattling in her chest. It was her favorite poem, the one she read to him in bed, but with amendments - a response from the poets lover. She draws a breath, finally braving to look up into his eyes.

"Did you … did you write this?"

"I know it's not much. I should have gotten you something more. Something - "

He cannot finish whatever he's about to say, for she throws all caution to the wind, grabbing his face and pressing her lips to his, consequences be damned. He stills for a moment, before slowly returning the kiss. She can vaguely hear Isabela hooting and gasps around the table, but doesn't care. She is his, and he is hers.

When she finally has half a mind to pull away, Fenris is smiling at her. She blushes, and says quietly, "Perhaps I should have asked if that was okay first."

"Hawke," he says with a small laugh. "You never need to ask to do that."

"So," Aveline breaks the spell that has enraptured them both. "When did this happen?"

"Oh, about a month ago," Varric interrupts, a lopsided smile on his face.

"Isabela!" Hawke yells, pointedly glaring at her friend. She hasn't the care to be mad, but she still shoots her a fake angry face.

"Oh come on, it was just too good not to share."

"You knew the deal. I am definitely not sharing anything else with you."

"As if Rivaini needed to tell me anything," Varric chuckles. "You two were completely obvious at Wicked Grace Night. There's a reason I gave you a copy of my latest draft. I want to make sure I get all the details right."

"You mean I gave up my future secret privileges for nothing?" Isabela scoffs. "Shit."

"Maybe if you're good, I'll change my mind," Hawke winks.

"You will do no such thing," Fenris sighs.

"So, who else knew about this?" Aveline raises an eyebrow.

"I had my suspicions," Sebastian says, a hint of amusement in his voice. Hawke glances at Fenris, who is avoiding her gaze. She knew he and the archer had grown close, and the thought that Fenris has confided in him brings her great joy.

"Some of us had really wished we didn't have such knowledge," Anders scoffs, and for the first time that night, drinks from his glass.

"I didn't know! Oh, you two make such a cute couple. I knew it would happen one day," Merrill cheers happily.

"So, just me and Merrill then?" Aveline shakes her head.

"I didn't know either, love," Donnic squeezes her hand, a smile on his lips.

"Alright, since the cat's out of the bag, any questions? This is your one chance to ask. After tonight, this becomes old news, got it?" Hawke asks the group. Isabela immediately chimes in.

"So just how many times has he explored your pink fortress? Assaulted you with his friendly weapon?" An unified groan spreads across the table. Fenris glances at Hawke.

"This is entirely your fault."

Hawke grabs his hand from under the table, squeezing tight. "Sorry, darling. Being with me means you'll have to endure the scrutiny of our friends."

"Is that all? Hardly seems like a downside, in comparison to everything I've gained." He whispers, so only she can hear him.

As chatter picks up around them, Hawke whispers to him, "You know, I was wondering where my book went."

"I will return it to you tomorrow."

"Keep it for awhile. Who knows, maybe you'll find a favorite passage of your own."

To her surprise, questions of their relationship die down soon after. The rest of the night is spent with good company, delicious drinks, and laughter, surrounded by the most important people in her life. It was one of the best name-days of her life, and Hawke vowed to herself that she would continue to carry on her mother's tradition.


A/N: So uh … if you haven't guessed it, Anders' gift was the start of him giving away his personal belongings (like how in game we see him giving Varric his mother's pillow). Don't worry, story is far from wrapping up, but I think Anders had made his plans far before he actually executed them.

As you may have noticed, I failed miserably at my NanoWrimo deadline. I made good on it the first half month, but unfortunately, I suffer from an unpredictable medical condition, and the last 2 weeks have been complete and utter hell, so very little writing was done. However, I have set some new goals for December so expect frequent updates!