A/N: Hello, lovely readers! I tried to make this chapter marginally less depressing than some of the previous chapters. Enjoy the Bioware-owned goodness!

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Chapter Nine

9:34 Dragon

Hawke Estate, Kirkwall

Firstday Eve

She had hung decorations on the chandelier.

How had she hung decorations on the chandelier?

She should have been resting. And yet, there were small gold and silver spheres hanging from the chandelier. The warm, genial firelight glinted off them, making the room seem to glitter. There was a garland of pine on the mantle, and the three tables along the wall had been cleared of potions, enchantment, and runecrafting materials. Tonight they held plates of food and goblets of various kinds of alcohol. Everything in the ballroom had been cleaned until it shone; even Hawke's usually untidy writing desk was cleared of clutter, a feat Fenris had long thought impossible.

The entire estate sparkled as if it, along with its mistress, had returned to life.

Hawke had truly outdone herself this time. She had been so clever with them all: asking them what their plans for Firstday Eve were and if they planned to stop by. She spoke with such loneliness and longing in her voice, and the new dog, Vascal, whined so piteously at all of them that they promised to be there.

In retrospect, Fenris shouldn't have been surprised. Hawke was a skilled and cunning woman. He probably should have expected this.

"Ah, Messere Fenris," Bodahn said, bowing as if Fenris were a noble. "I hope all is well. Mistress Hawke and some of the other guests are in the study for the moment. If you'd like to join them...?"

Fenris nodded awkwardly at Bodahn and made his way into the study. It, too, was clean, warm, and bright.

Varric was leaning against the arm of Hawke's chair as the two of them co-told a probably fictitious story about Hawke's childhood – something involving giant spiders and a girl apparently named "Peaches".

Sebastian was standing off to one side of the fireplace (which, like the one in the ballroom, had a pine garland). From his broad smile, it seemed he was enjoying the story heartily.

Merrill was seated on the floor in front of the fireplace, and, with her usual wide-eyed credulity, believed far too much of the tale.

Aveline and, surprisingly, Guardsman Donnic were seated on the stairs to the library, making a pretence of listening to the story but continually getting distracted by each other. Fenris suppressed a bittersweet smile upon looking at them.

Vascal leapt up from his place in Hawke's usual chair when Fenris entered the room. The puppy bolted over to the elf and began jumping, his eyes wide in doggy joy. Fenris leaned down and patted the dog, expecting it to go back to Hawke.

It did not, however, appear to work that way. Vascal continued to jump at Fenris, now making an obnoxious yipping noise.

"Vascal," Hawke called from her chair in a warning but affectionate tone, "get back here, you dinkus."

Vascal licked Fenris's hand once in apology and ran back over to Hawke's chair, leaping into her lap with the momentum of a Qunari cannonball.

"Good to see you, Fenris," Hawke said, turning to the elf and waving him in.

"I was unaware that there was to be a party this evening," Fenris replied dryly.

"Welcome to the club, elf," Varric muttered. He smiled despite himself when Hawke smacked him once in the chest.

"Boys, honestly! It's Firstday," Hawke pretended to be scandalized. "Everyone who'sanyone has a party on Firstday."

"Are you pretending that you are someone important now, Hawke?" Fenris remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Hawke said with a wicked grin, "Kirkwall is."

"You're not pretending to be someone important, Hawke," Merrill said, "and neither is Kirkwall. The Knight-Commander and the nobles made you Champion. Oh, wait, that's what you meant, isn't it? Never mind."

"Eh. Champion is nice, I suppose," Hawke replied, shrugging with false nonchalance, "but I'm aiming slightly higher than that."

"You want to be Viscount?" Sebastian asked.

"No, I think I'd like to be pronounced the Empress of Sanity. I'm the only one in Kirkwall with any of it left, and isn't that a frightening thought," Hawke said with a grin.

It seemed she was in better spirits tonight than she had been in quite some time. Fenris was pleased to see her smile again.

"Well, come in already, Fenris. Pull up a patch of floor," she urged, "or you can use my desk chair if you like."

"I can do that, if you wish," Fenris chuckled. He pulled Hawke's desk chair out from her desk and sat down.

From his position, he was able to look at Hawke for the first time that evening. She had a new house robe, it seemed, made of red silk. Her dark hair was washed, combed, and newly trimmed. Her skin was less pale than it had been, and there was a hint of color in her cheeks. And she looked – better, substantially better.

Fenris caught Hawke's eyes on him – bright, bold blue met muted forest green – and he saw them shine with warm, free affection. After a moment of holding his gaze, she suddenly bit her lip and looked away, with a bit more color in her cheeks.

Fenris cleared his throat. "I – believe I interrupted a story," he said awkwardly. "I apologize."

"Right. Where were we, Varric?" Hawke asked quickly.

"Peaches was tied up in the cave, trapped by giant spiders," Varric replied. "And no one was there to hear her calls for help."

"How did the spiders tie her up?" Merrill asked.

"These were rare Nevarran Fireleg Sac spiders," Hawke invented, trying not to smile.

"They're the size of horses, Daisy," Varric said, dropping his voice dramatically, "and they are very venomous and very intelligent."

"Did they not just use their webs to stick her into place?" Sebastian asked, laughing.

"Oh, no. Nevarran Fireleg Sac spiders are notorious show-offs," Hawke said. "They convinced Peaches to tie herself up, saying it was for her own safety. Right, Varric?"

"Absolutely," Varric replied, his face arranged with an air of perfect truthfulness. "They knew she was terrified of spiders, and they told her that if she tied herself up, they wouldn't be able to cut her down to eat her."

"Peaches, unfortunately, believed everything they told her," Hawke went on. "And so, she tied herself up like they suggested."

"How did she tieherself up?" Merrill asked.

"Peaches was far more of a show-off than any Nevarran Fireleg Sac spider," Hawke replied with a grin, "and far less intelligent."

"In Tevinter, they are coveted pets," Fenris said, completely deadpan.

"The spiders can be tamed?" Merrill asked, astonished.

"Not as such, no," Fenris admitted, "but it is a mark of honor to have one. Rather like a Mabari in Ferelden."

Merrill began to expound upon the difficulties of owning an intelligent, venomous spider the size of a horse. For one thing, you'd have to be very very nice to it, or you'd find yourself poisoned in the night without any warning.

Hawke's shoulders shook as she silently giggled, arguing that Nevarran Fireleg Sac spiders would probably be more show-offish than a straightforward poisoning; the spider would be more likely to convince its owner to poison himself instead. She then went on to say that the one thing that Nevarran Fireleg Sac spiders will not tolerate is being ridden like a horse. Many magisters had met their ends that way.

"Nice escalation, elf," Varric mumbled, nodding appreciatively at Fenris.

Behind him, the door opened.

"Anders!" Hawke called with a smile. "Good to see you."

Fenris turned and saw the abomination.

And just when he'd started to enjoy himself.

"Hawke – what are you doing up?" Anders asked, concerned.

"Celebrating Firstday," Hawke replied innocently. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm your healer and your friend? Because I worry about you?" Anders argued, clearly irritated, "Because you were stabbed in the stomach two weeks ago and you should really be in bed right now?"

"I just wanted to call everyone together to celebrate the holiday," Hawke said, still smiling. "I promise you: I will not over-exert myself."

Anders looked at Hawke disapprovingly.

"If it makes you feel better, Orana, Bodahn, and Sandal handled the preparations," Hawke admitted. "I supervised and handled a little of the cooking. Anything I could do while sitting down."

"You didn't try to do more than that? I'm impressed," Anders said, surprised.

"Oh, I did. They just wouldn't let me."

Varric snickered and Fenris suppressed a smile. That was exactly like Hawke.

"You should give them raises, Hawke," Fenris remarked with a half-smile.

"A fine idea. Remind me about that tomorrow, if you would," Hawke replied in all seriousness. "I've a terrible head for finances."

Fenris blinked. Ordinarily, she would have taken it as a joke, laughing and pretending to be miserly. In reality, she was quite generous with her coin, but she liked to poke fun at herself as much as at anyone else.

Some things had, apparently, changed.


Dinner had been delicious and characteristic of Hawke's rags-to-riches climb: Hawke served manchet bread and roasted venison, of course, but she also had potage and some sort of Fereldan mince pie.

(There was also an apple crumble, of which Fenris ate about half.)

Everyone had found something at the dinner that they truly loved; Hawke had apparently even researched Dalish recipes for Merrill and found out from Aveline what Donnic's favorite dishes were.

The only thing that soured the meal for Fenris was the abomination's attentions to Hawke. Anders sat beside her, served her food, refilled her glass, and performed any other small service he could under the guise of making sure she "didn't exert herself".

Fenris knew better. Anders seemed to have redoubled his efforts to gain Hawke's affections, and Fenris appeared to be the only one who noticed.

And while Fenris may have given up any claim he had to Hawke, that did not mean that Anders was worthy of her. Anders was a selfish opportunist who would only break Hawke's heart if she gave it to him.

Surely she realized that she deserved better than that.

Surely she didn't – want the abomination?

As Fenris looked at the two of them, relaxed and smiling, he realized that, while he knew Anders desired Hawke, he was unsure of her feelings for Anders, if there were any.

She was more sympathetic to mages than Fenris would have liked, and she was far too merciful toward them. It was foolish of her, and Fenris knew she would learn that the hard way.

On top of that, Hawke had once called Anders "handsome," back in the early days, and since then, the two of them flirted shamelessly. Though Hawke had told Fenris that she simply enjoyed flirting, he did not know if that was one of the things that had changed about Hawke since his desertion, her mother's murder, and her own near-death.

Once dinner was over, to everyone's belt-loosening satisfaction, Bodahn and Anders helped Hawke out of the dining chair and into the wheeled chair that Varric had found for her.

"You should head back to the study for now, lads," Hawke had said, smiling at them all. "I'll be there shortly."

And so to the study the companions (minus Anders) retired in high spirits. Orana provided wine and beer with a liberal hand. Aveline and Donnic tore themselves away from themselves and joined in the conversation with Sebastian, Merrill, and Varric.

Fenris remained in silence, considerably less joyful than the rest of the party.

"Would you stop brooding over there, elf?" Varric called.

"I am not brooding," Fenris replied.

Merrill giggled. It seemed she'd had a bit too much wine.

"Is it just me, or was Anders quite close to Hawke tonight?" Sebastian asked suspiciously.

"He's a healer," Aveline replied, shrugging. "He was a bit overzealous, but..."

"Oh, right, Cranberry. I'm sure he was doing it out of the kindness of his pants," Varric snickered.

Fenris was going to strangle that dwarf.

"Cranberry?" Aveline looked at Varric, incredulous.

"It's the nickname you take issue with? Really?" Varric asked, shaking his head, "'Kindness of his pants' didn't trip you up?"

"Technically, he wears robes," Merrill said, hiccuping slightly.

"I thought of that, Daisy, but 'kindness of his robes' didn't sound as good."

"I don't think we should be talking about it, anyway," Merrill replied in a loud whisper, jerking her head in Fenris's direction. "It might hurt someone's feelings."

First Aveline, now the witch, too? Had Hawke told everyone?

Fenris needed some air. He turned to leave the room and opened the door.

"Oh, thanks, Fenris," he heard Hawke's voice from around Varric's height. "Getting doors is a huge pain in the ass in this chair."

He looked down and saw her smiling broadly at him from her wheeled chair.

"It – it is no trouble, Hawke," he said, standing to the side to let Anders wheel her through the doorway.

Anders shot Fenris a glare, which Fenris gladly returned. Bodahn and Sandal quietly entered the room behind their mistress and the mage, carrying a pile of various items – a shield, a book, a few boxes, and other things.

"Maker, I can't even begin to say how good it feels to get around. And despite the door issues, I may never get rid of this chair. It's surprisingly comfortable," Hawke sighed in contentment.

"Where did you get such a thing, Serah Hawke?" Donnic asked from his spot in the corner, "I've never seen anything like it."

Hawke chuckled. "I got it from the same place I get everything interesting: Varric."

"Aw, that's sweet, Hawke," said Varric, "but I think your life is plenty interesting without me."

"True enough, but I don't think I want to find out for sure," Hawke replied, winking at him.

Orana put her tray on Hawke's desk and took the metaphorical reins of Hawke's wheeled chair. She wheeled Hawke over to Bodahn and Sandal, who had set the boxes down near the fireplace.

"Thanks, Orana," Hawke whispered, smiling encouragingly at her shy servant.

Orana bowed and squeaked out something that sounded like, "You're welcome, Mistress."

Hawke clapped her hands together and looked around the room at her friends. Fenris saw the sparkle in her eye that usually indicated trouble.

"All right, lads," she said, "time for gifts."

Exclamations went up from around the room – mostly from Sebastian, Aveline, Merrill, and Anders – it was a nice idea, but Hawke hadn't needed to get them anything; this was sweet of her, but...

"Hawke, I don't have anything for you," said Merrill.

With a grin, Hawke silently pointed at Vascal, who had jumped into his mistress's lap for a bit of a snuggle.

Bodahn handed Hawke one of the presents.

"Merrill, this one is yours," said Hawke, holding it out in Merrill's direction.

The witch walked up – unsteadily – and gently took the gift from Hawke. It was a small wooden box with an engraving on it.

"Lethallan," Merrill breathed. "Is it...?"

"Sylaise, the Hearthkeeper," Hawke nodded in confirmation.

"Ma serannas," the witch replied. She bent down and put her arms around Hawke's neck.
"You're welcome, Merrill," Hawke said, embracing the witch in return.

Bodahn handed Hawke another gift as Merrill walked away with tears in her eyes.

"Let's see... this one is for Sebastian."

It was a framed page from an illuminated manuscript and quite beautiful: gold and silver lettering on a purple background with a stylized illustration of Andraste, Shartan, and their followers.

"'Blessed are the peacekeepers, champions of the just,'" Sebastian read as he took his gift. "The Canticle of Benedictions. Thank you, Hawke."

"Happy Firstday, Sebastian," Hawke said with a smile. "The next one is for Varric."

She tossed the dwarf's gift over to him. Varric caught it easily.

"It's – a journal?" Varric looked at Hawke, perplexed. "You got me a journal?"

Hawke laughed, "Well, since you've insisted on becoming my official biographer, I figured you'd need somewhere to write everything down."

"Aww, thanks, Hawke. That's sweet," Varric said, grinning.

Hawke snorted and took the next gift from Bodahn.

"This is for Donnic," said Hawke.

"Serah Hawke, you didn't have to –"

"Call me 'Hawke,' please," she replied, "and take the blighted present."

"I know you're not used to dealing with her, Guardsman, but we'll be here all night if you don't," Sebastian said with a laugh.

"Oh, very nice. Thank you," Hawke pretended to be offended. "I am never going to be able to pass myself off with any degree of credit if I don't get some less honest friends."

As everyone laughed, Donnic walked up to Hawke and took the box from her. He opened the lid and looked down at his gift.

"These spices are outrageously expensive," he said, gobsmacked.

"I know. I bought them. They're not quite copper marigolds," Hawke snickered, "but I hope you like them anyway."

"Hawke! I thought you said you'd never mention that again!" Aveline exclaimed, her face red.

"You asked me never to mention it again. I never said I would," Hawke clarified with a giggle. "All right, I'm sorry. I won't bring it up anymore. I promise."

Bodahn passed Hawke the next gift – a large-ish box with holes in it.

"Anders, this one is yours," she said, handing it to the mage who was never far from her.

"You really didn't have to get me a gift," he replied.

"I really think I did," she returned.

Anders took the lid off the box. His head snapped over to Hawke.

"You didn't," he said.

"I did," she replied with an irrepressible grin.

Anders placed the box onto the floor and pulled out a small kitten.

"You told Merrill you wanted a tabby, right?" Hawke asked.

"Hawke, I..." Anders looked at her, dumbfounded. He began to absently stroke the kitten, who snuggled into his shoulder and started to purr.

"I know she can't replace Ser Pounce-a-lot," said Hawke, "but she's all yours."

"Hawke, I don't know what to say," Anders replied. "Thank you. Really."

"You're welcome. Really," Hawke chuckled.

Bodahn handed Hawke another of the gifts.

"Aveline, you're up," she said.

It was a very small box that Hawke passed to Aveline, but the Guard-Captain gasped when she opened it.

"How in the Maker's name did you get these?" Aveline cried.

"What is it, love?" asked Donnic.

"Two tickets to see An Antivan Tragedy. It's been sold out for weeks!"

"It's amazing what people will give to the Champion of Kirkwall," Hawke laughed, winking at Aveline. "You'll be in one of the nobles' boxes."

"Hawke, I can't accept these," Aveline protested.

"Of course you can," said Hawke. "Enjoy the show. Let me know how it is. If it's half as good as people have been saying, I may go see it myself."

Bodahn handed Hawke the final gift.

"And I think it's fairly obvious that this one is yours, Fenris," said Hawke with a smile.

She held his gift out to him. It was another book, one intended for children.

"You, er, expressed an interest in lower Thedas mythology and fairy tales," Hawke invented. "Since you haven't heard a lot of them. Being from Seh– Tevinter and all."

In reality, at their last reading lesson, Hawke had said that Fenris was now far enough along to really practice on his own. He simply needed the means to do so. A Slave's Life was still a bit too difficult for him, and the other books in his mansion were written in Tevene.

After everything that had happened, after what he had done, she still wanted him to learn. She was still encouraging him.

Fenris would never understand this woman.

"Thank you, Hawke," he said simply. "It is a fine gift."

"You're welcome," she smiled. "Now, I think that's everything..."

"Not quite. I've a present to give," Donnic replied, surprising everyone except Hawke.

Hawke nodded at Donnic, and he turned to Aveline, taking her hands in his.

"Aveline," he said. "I... am not a man of words. I don't have the perfect adjective to describe how you make me feel."

"Should have asked me," Varric muttered. Hawke shushed him.

"But you inspire me to be stronger, braver, and better. You challenge me to be more than I am. And," Donnic said, "I can't imagine not feeling that way. I want to go on being better. With you."

Pulling a small box out of his pocket, Donnic got down on one knee.

"Aveline Vallen, will you marry me?"

Aveline was stunned. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to get the words out.

"Donnic, I..." she began.

The room was silent for a moment, save Anders's new kitten's purring, as Aveline composed herself.

"Yes," she finally said, a grin spreading its way across her face.

Donnic smiled more broadly than Fenris had ever seen him. He slid the ring onto Aveline's finger as everyone applauded and Bodahn a bottle of champagne.

"Congratulations, you two!" Hawke called, beaming as much as either of the two lovers.

"You were in on this, weren't you?" Aveline demanded.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I was," Hawke replied. "Didn't you lot say I needed a project?"

"...How do you know about that?" Varric asked.

"Word of advice: when you want to keep a secret, don't tell the Chantry brother," Hawke grinned wickedly. "Sebastian can't keep a secret for beans."

"I'd be offended if it weren't true," Sebastian admitted.

Orana and Bodahn passed around glasses of champagne to all the companions.

"To the future Donnic and Aveline Henndyr!" Hawke toasted.

Cries of "Hear, hear!" and "Cheers!" went up around the room as everyone clinked their glasses together and drained them.

Hawke said to Donnic, "Welcome to the family. Glad to have you and all that. And if you break her heart, I break your face. Deal?"

"Deal, Serah. I mean – Hawke."

"Good. Now let me see the ring before I get testy."


Hawke's friends and companions ate, drank, and talked well into the night. Sebastian left shortly after the new year began, giving Hawke a hug and wishing her all the best. Donnic and Aveline soon followed, saying that they'd be back for dinner later in the week to tell her how the play was.

Merrill painted Orana's face with mock vallaslin and taught the former Tevinter slave a few traditional Dalish songs before falling asleep in Hawke's usual chair. Varric told stories, each less plausible than the last, but left around third bell. Anders played with his kitten and tried to decide on a name for her. Vascal also tried to play with the kitten, but she was so not interested.

And in the middle of it all was Hawke – happy and hopeful, much the way she used to be.

Perhaps 9:35 Dragon would be a good year after all, Fenris reflected as he prepared to say his farewells.

"... I don't know how I can thank you," he heard Anders's voice from the foyer.

Hawke's voice chuckled, "I gave you the kitten to thank you, Anders. You've been wonderful these last few weeks."

"Of course. Anything you need, Hawke," Anders's voice replied.

Fenris moved quietly to the side, waiting for the abomination to say goodnight and leave already.

"Take care, Anders. I might get used to this," Hawke said playfully. "I'll start expecting special treatment. And then you'll have created a monster with no one to blame but yourself."

"I think I can live with that," replied Anders.

He kissed her.

The bottom dropped out of Fenris's stomach.

He kissed her.

"Happy New Year, Hawke," Anders whispered. And he left.

Hawke blinked a few times. "What in the Void just happened?"

Fenris walked over to Hawke.

"Fenris. Shit," Hawke swore. "I'd say that wasn't what it looked like, but I don't know what that was myself."

"Goodnight, Hawke," Fenris replied, ignoring what she had said. "Happy New Year."

He opened the door and walked into the bitterly cold night, feeling that it was oddly appropriate.