A/N: Another drabble prompt fill, this time for fragilespark on Tumblr who asked for "Fenris right back at you... maybe Hawke estate fireside fluffiness". I hope you like it!


A Quiet Occasion

Fenris is certain he will never grow tired of moments like this, no matter how frequent their occurrences have become. The bed is warm and welcoming, the thick velvet curtains draped between its posts offering a sanctuary unbreached by all save the soft glow of a low burning fire's flames. Here there are no demons, real or imagined, to haunt him, no memories of a past better left forgotten to dog his thoughts. There is only this, the whole of the world narrowed to rumpled sheets about his hips and the soft weight of Hawke's body pressed along the length of his own, her head pillowed against his chest with an arm thrown carelessly over his waist.

Fenris watches over her in silent admiration, unsure what it is he has done to deserve the trust she places in him but loath to question whatever act of the Maker or stroke of good fortune has made it possible. Pale skin is cast amber in the firelight, the bared rise of her breast lifting and falling with each passing breath. She stirs closer to him still in her sleep, one leg entangling itself with his own beneath their covers while a dark strand of hair falls into her eyes from the movement. His free hand rises from his side without thought, head turning against his pillow to better face her as he gently drags a lyrium-etched finger across her brow, the freed lock tucked back into place behind her ear.

The touch, as determinedly light as he had made it, is enough to make Hawke tense, his gaze soon met in kind by blue eyes cleared with a quickness honed by too many nights' rests spent in less than secure circumstances. She relaxes back into his arms just as easily, however, recognition soothing away stiffness as though it had never been.

"I apologize," Fenris says softly, the hand still at her ear moving to cup her face, his thumb drawn across the top of her cheek in a caress. "I did not mean to wake you."

"I suppose I can forgive you," she says with a drowsy smile, the arm around him tightening in a clumsy embrace as she turns into him. "There are worse things to wake up to than a naked elf in my bed, after all."

He chuckles, a low and throaty laugh, before his fingers move once more to lift her jaw, a kiss as tender as he can manage pressed against her lips. "You truly are a wonder, Hawke."

"Funny you should mention that," she says with a smirk, wasting no time in shifting them both so that she now lies flush over the top of him, "I daresay I could say the same thing about you."