"How long will you be here?" Irina said, sitting on the arm of Carver's chair. He was holding Inan in his arms and Merrill was watching them, enthralled by the sight of the two people she loved the most finally together.

"Two more days. Stroud was exceedingly kind by letting me stay this long. A three-day stop is not really significant to our mission, but it might mean changes in the tide," Carver explained. "I hope it won't be as rough as it was when we got here."

"How do you like the place? It took us some time to fix it."

"It's grand!" Carver smiled. "Gamlen told me about it yesterday. I'm glad to see he's being decent for a change."

"Oh, he is," Merrill said excitedly. "He loves Inan. Well, as much as he can love children and pets. Hairbag can't stay here; the poor dog has learned that the door to the kitchen is as far as he can get. I think he's happy to have company."

"The dog?" Carver asked, confused.

"Oh, no! Gamlen! Your mother says that he must have had a hard life in that old hovel of his. I wish he had some family of his own, you know?" She stood up and took the baby from Carver's arms. "It's time for me to feed her, ma vhenan. You can have her again after she's eaten and slept for a while."

"So strict," he pouted, but he smiled when Merrill leaned and kissed him. His eyes followed her until she'd left the room, and then he turned to his sister. "We're getting married in two days, right before I leave."

"Maker! Tell me that's no joke," Irina beamed as she threw her arms around her brother. "Congratulations! How did you persuade her?"

"I didn't have to," Carver said. "I just told her, 'Merrill, I want us to be married before I leave; Inan will be inscribed in the books as a Hawke, and so will you' and she said, 'Fine, but I need to get new shoes'. Since there was little time for her to get some, and she kept insisting on wearing them because of those chantry rules, we'll be married here, in the garden. Sebastian will do it."

"But…" Irina blinked. "You have to let him know. We've just returned from the Caves, and I think he'll be exhausted."

"Then I'll be on my way out. What were you doing in the caves?" Carver frowned. "I'm not sure I like this new adventurous side of yours…"

"It was a situation that Fenris–" Irina stopped suddenly. Fenris. She ran out of the room and bumped into Bodahn, who was instructing some men in the right way to decorate the garden. "Bodahn, where's Fenris?"

"Master Fenris left a short time ago, Mistress. He asked me to tell you that he will be at his place. Master Anders is upstairs, taking care of Mistress Isabela. My boy is helping him. Mistress Amell has asked me to let you know that she left a new dress in your chambers." He looked at the men apprehensively and whispered, "I'm not sure these people will know exactly what to do. Would you mind giving us a hand with that? When you have time, of course."

So Fenris had left. Irina felt again that they needed to talk, and every time that they were about to have some time on their own, someone came or something happened, and the talk was postponed once more. She sighed. "Of course I'll help you. Let me wash myself first."

"Oh, that! I was forgetting that," Bodahn chuckled. "I've already drawn a bath for you. I thought you might need it, after such a long trip."

"What would we do without you, dear Bodahn?" Irina smiled and kissed the dwarf on the forehead. She had come to truly appreciate his presence in the house.

She excused herself with Carver and climbed the steps to her bedroom. As she walked up the stairs, she looked around, feeling grateful for the blessings that they had received, and said a silent prayer.

Fenris sank into his favorite chair and rested his feet on the table in front of him. He finished the bottle of wine that he'd been saving for that occasion and, for the first time in years, he allowed himself to loosen up. He knew that the battle won in the previous days was only that, a battle. The war would still continue, and he just had to make sure that he'd live to fight Danarius when the man decided to come for him.

Because now, more than ever, he would come for him.

He looked at his sword, still waiting to be polished. There was a certain pleasure in knowing that so many had died by it, and that the loss of their lives had not been in vain. They had given him confidence. They had given him strength. Like steps to a ladder, bringing him closer to his objective. And once Danarius was brought down…

What then? Did he have the courage to wage a war against the slavers? Against the Magisters? He looked into the fire. What then?

Settling down was something that he didn't know. Then again, he'd been living in Kirkwall for two years. Still squatting in that house, which seemed to become gloomier and gloomier with every passing day. Still drinking that wine, which tasted more and more bitter. And yet, there was some sweetness to it. The aftertaste had changed. It wasn't light or airy any longer, but every sip he took left an unexpected softness in his mouth.

The memory of her kisses came back to him. She was bolder than he had thought, first touching his lips without expecting a kiss in return, and then commanding him to do so. Part of him relished the thought of seeing her so assertive, but the other part, the part that he was trying to ignore, wanted her the most when she was soft and kind. The warmth of her body, the smoothness of her skin… He could feel the desire building up in him. He'd never liked the idea of naked bodies together, but he realized that it was because he'd never had a good experience with that. Everything had been forcefully taken from him. He'd never had the chance to say 'I want this'.

"I want you," he said out loud, his eyes set on the fire, but his mind set on her.

The knock on the door surprised him. Bodahn must have told her. He passed his fingers through his hair and dashed downstairs.

"Hello, Fenris," Sebastian greeted him with a polite smile.

He tried to hide his disappointment. "What are you doing here?"

"May I come in?" the Chantry Brother asked. Fenris moved aside and the other man walked into the house, looking around discreetly. Fenris didn't usually mind him, but this time he hated him. After having been away for days, Sebastian didn't look exhausted in the least. He was wearing his dashing Andraste armor once more, and his hair was neatly combed. Never had Fenris felt more self-conscious.

"What brings you here?" the elf asked.

"I have just been informed that I'm to officiate the wedding between Carver and Merrill. Milady Amell will surely be overjoyed."

"You mean Irina?"

"Yes. Who else?"

"You've called her Irina once when we were camping. I caught that. Why's she 'Milady Amell' now?"

Sebastian smiled. "Because sometimes it is nice to remember who she is and where she comes from. That was the purpose of Carver's sacrifice, wasn't it? He went into that expedition hoping to restore his family's good name."

Fenris licked his lips. He was starting to see where the conversation was going. "Why don't you call him 'Milord Amell' then?"

"Because as a Grey Warden, he has no claim to titles. Very much like those of us who join the Chantry. That is, unless we recover them."

"And that is what you intend to do, I take it?"

Sebastian nodded as he looked around. "One day. If your latest experience has taught me anything, Fenris, is that if you find yourself the right allies, you can go far. Retaking Starkhaven is a long-term goal for me." He looked at the elf amicably. "For the moment, I shall remain in Kirkwall."

Fenris smirked. "Is that why you need a Lady Amell, then?"

The Brother smiled. "Perhaps. It is no secret that Irina seems to enjoy your company. But she's also the kind of person who's willing to do her duty, even if it means making sacrifices. I truly believe that if Merrill hadn't been with child, she would have joined the Circle. In fact, there was this time in which I was fortunate enough to persuade her otherwise. I guess I'm lucky that she listens to me, Maker bless her soul." He looked at Fenris almost apologetically. "Oh, but that's not what I'm here for. You're invited to the wedding, of course. I'm sure Milady Amell would have wanted to come and tell you herself, but Bodahn said there were more pressing matters."

"Anything else?" Fenris muttered.

"No, that will be all." Sebastian opened the door and looked at the elf over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, my friend."

"How is she doing?" Carver asked Irina as she came out of the guest room.

"Anders has just finished healing her properly. The injury was severe and he had to relieve some of the pressure… She's fine," his sister smiled and pressed his arm sympathetically. "Don't worry. As soon as he comes out, you can see her."

"Is she awake?" Carver peered inside the room through the door left ajar.

"She is now. She might be a little… gone." Irina walked down the stairs.

Carver leaned against the wall and waited outside the room. The house was silent now. He looked around one more time. He still couldn't believe that the family estate was so grand. Not even in his wildest dreams had he dreamed of living in such a place. He still had to remind himself that it would never be him who lived in that house. He gazed at Merrill's door, hoping that his soon-to-be bride would come out, but the baby had had trouble sleeping, and Merrill was busy with the child. He felt movement in the room and stood straight.

"Were you waiting for me?" Anders teased. "You shouldn't have."

"Your dog's been waiting for you," Carver told him. "Gamlen's complained about some scratching in the larder only three times."

"Oh, that's nothing," Anders shrugged. "If you want to ask her what's that thing she's looking for, now's the time. She's a little dizzy."

"Still haven't figured that out?" Carver said, resting his hand on the doorknob.

"You know what she's like. She shows too much of the outside, but the inside's a mystery. See you tomorrow for the big event!" Anders fished in his pocket for the key that Irina had given him and left.

Carver closed the door behind him. Isabela's head was framed by bandages. Without the jewellery, without the smile she always seemed to have on her lips, she looked young and fragile, and somehow not like Isabela at all. She opened her eyes and saw him standing in front of her.

"Your hair's longer," she murmured and closed her eyes again.

"It is, yes." He was about to move a chair closer to the bed but she patted a spot next to her. "I stopped caring about my looks for a while. Merrill wants me to comb it for tomorrow."

"What's special about tomorrow?"

"Our wedding day. She and I are getting married."

Isabela opened her eyes. "Oh," she said. 'She and I' he'd said. Not 'We'. He was sending a clear message. She watched the young man until he blushed, and she smiled weakly. "A dashing prince."

"Pardon?"

"That's what you look like. Nobility. There's always been a noble air about you. Just like that tease, Sebastian. It must be the blue eyes." She sighed.

"How did you let them get to you?" Carver teased, trying to change the topic of the conversation to one that would be safer. "You've always been a bit careless, but this is too much. Knocked out cold, they tell me. Tsk tsk tsk. Shame on you. Irina says that Aveline will bring you a great helm from the armory of the barracks…"

Isabela smiled. "The Captain's a good fighter, but I missed my warrior," she murmured. "All those back-to-back battles, Carver… And all that front-to-front action we'd have afterwards…"

"Isabela…" Carver shook his head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have… It would have been stupid, Carver. I could never be what you wanted. This is you, love. The man who wants the wife and the child; the heart that does its duty. And I'm just a lowlife thief, a failed pirate…"

"Don't say that. This is unlike you, Isabela." Carver held her hands in his and she looked away.

"I was married once, you know? A horrible man. He got what he deserved in the end." Her fingers wrapped around his. "I'm sorry. I was just afraid of getting close to anyone. I don't trust people easily. That's not me." She groaned.

"Are you in pain? Should I…?" Carver leaned forward to adjust the pillows, and Isabela pressed her lips against his; forcefully at first, but soon her kiss turned into something tender, longing and bittersweet. It was a farewell kiss, Carver knew it. He kissed her forehead and her hands.

"Isabela… My friend…" he whispered.

"Go. Leave me alone," she murmured, looking away. Carver knew when something was over, and he walked out of the room.

"I'm just so glad that your mother gave me this dress for Satinalia!" Merrill exclaimed as Irina helped her with the flowing sleeves. "It's as if she knew that I was going to need it!" She gasped. "Do you think she knew?"

"Nobody knew!" Irina grinned. "That makes it so much better! You're lucky that my brother's the kind of man who's happy to be head of a fam–" She was interrupted by the elf's sudden embrace. "What's wrong?"

"I wish Fenris made up his mind," Merrill frowned. "I know he feels something strong for you. I've seen him. Even I can tell! That means everyone can see." She gasped again. "Do you think he's embarrassed? I'll tell the others not to look at you two when you're together - do you think that will help?"

"Are you two ready?" Leandra said as she came into Merrill's chamber, holding her granddaughter in her arms. Inan was cooing softly, and her green eyes looked around the room. Merrill said something to the baby that Irina didn't understand. She smiled and looked at herself in the mirror. Her mother had chosen a light-blue dress with a silvery pattern, and she'd given her an antique necklace – the only thing that Gamlen had kept from their mother. She pinched her cheeks and hoped… Was it silly, to hope that he'd look at her? To wish she heard him say she was pretty? She wasn't vain, but she'd seen the way Carver and Merrill looked at each other, and she had come to want that so badly…

Aveline peered into the room. Her head was a red-haired mane and it made her look so different that they had trouble recognizing her. "Oh, fantastic. I dress in green because I trust the bride will wear red and she's dressed in green!" she protested. She became aware of the women staring at her. "What? It's the hair, isn't it?" she said, covering her hair self-consciously. "I knew it wouldn't look good."

"Are you joking?" Isabela said behind her. "You look amazing. Who knew you had such a wild beast inside?" Irina had washed the Rivaini's hair that morning and she'd managed to conceal the wound by tying her hair up in a loose bun. "You look beautiful, Kitten. Carver is one lucky man."

Merrill stared at her. A sudden chill ran along Isabela's spine. "Would you leave us alone?" Merrill asked the other women, who sensed a storm coming. As soon as the door had closed, the elf said, "Carver told me about last night."

"What happened last night?" Isabela asked.

"You know what happened," Merrill murmured. Her bright green eyes seemed darker somehow.

Isabela knew that playing dumb would lead her nowhere. "Yes, I did it. I kissed him. But it didn't mean anything, to either of us. It wasn't going to lead anywhere. Here, let me show you." The pirate planted a friendly kiss on Merrill's lips.

Merrill blinked. "Well, I was talking about your husband. You told him you were married once. How could you not tell us? I thought we were friends!"

Isabela arched an eyebrow. "Oh! Then, the kiss…?"

Merrill held one of her friend's hands and patted it. "Yes, he told me about that as well. He's honest. I like that about him. If he doesn't like you, he'll tell you so. And if he does, he'll say it. You're important to him." She hugged the Rivaini. "So you're important to us. But you knew that already. I just wish you'd told us…"

Isabela stroked the elf's face gently. "I can see why he chose you," she murmured.

"He chose me? I thought I'd chosen him! Oh, I never know about these things. And Irina's gone now. Can you help me with the wreath?"

Isabela smiled. "Of course, Kitten."

As Irina walked down the stairs, she heard someone whistling.

"Well, look at you! You clean up nicely!" Varric exclaimed, holding her by the hands and kissing her cheeks. "Hoping to break some elven hearts today?"

"You're silly," she giggled. "New boots?"

"The ceremonial ones. They make me a little taller. It never hurts to look good, right?"

"I guess it doesn't," Irina smiled. "Have you seen Anders?"

"Blondie's in the study room, with your brother and Sebastian. Is Isabela upstairs?"

"She is, with Merrill."

"Ooh… How's that going? Will I run into a cat fight if I go to check on her?"

"No, I think they'll be fine." Irina kissed the dwarf on the cheek and headed for the study room. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Anders browsing through some books, and Carver and Sebastian deep in conversation.

"Ah, here she is," her brother said.

"Well, well, well – look at you," Anders smiled. "New dress. Your mother has impeccable timing for buying you clothes," he said as he left two books on a low table. "You look beautiful, dear."

"Do you really think so?" Irina asked with a smile.

"The colour suits you," Sebastian said. "It matches your eyes, giving them a certain light that shows purity. Milady." he held her hand and brushed her fingers with his lips.

Irina blushed and looked at her brother, who seemed to be amused. "I… I was wondering if you were ready. Mother wants to know…"

"We are, yes. We can continue discussing that another day, Sebastian," Carver said.

"There is no hurry," the Brother smiled.

Irina couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt that there was something odd there. Her eyes found Anders's, who seemed to desperately want to tell her something, but Carver locked his arm with hers and led her out of the room. Irina was staring back at Anders when she heard her brother greeting Fenris. And yes, there he was, dressed in black as usual, but his clothes were different this time. It felt as if he'd actually made the effort to look good.

"It's good to have you here," Carver said, patting him on the arm.

"Congratulations," Fenris said, visibly uncomfortable. He looked at Irina and nodded. "I'll see you all in the garden, I suppose," he murmured before walking away.

"'I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond," Sebastian chanted. "For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light, and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.' From this moment on, you are man and wife."

Amidst the cheering and clapping of their friends, Carver kissed Merrill who, immediately after her husband untied the red scarf that had been used to bind them together, reached out for her daughter. Leandra was trying to hold back the tears as Gamlen patted her hand. Irina was beaming, and when she turned around, he saw Fenris watching her, a curious expression on his face. She crossed her eyes. He raised an eyebrow, but she could swear that the corners of his lips had moved upwards.

After the feast, the musicians started playing, and most of the guests danced along. Irina remained seated, clapping and watching everything, casting occasional glances towards Fenris's seat, but the elf seemed more interested in talking to Varric and Isabela.

"May I?" a voice said behind her. Anders was offering his hand and Irina took it quickly. "I haven't danced in a while, so you'll have to forgive me if I accidentally maim you."

"We can join forces and heal my poor toes, don't worry," she replied. It only took Anders a short while to remember the basics of dancing, and soon after they were twirling around.

"Sebastian was talking to Carver about marrying you," he whispered when they came close. He saw the shock in her eyes as they parted and switched partners.

Three, two, one; they came together again. "Is that a joke?" she whispered. "Why would he want to do that?"

"He plans to retake Starkhaven, and his claim would look better if he had a wife," Anders murmured as stood behind her and held her by the waist.

"Even if that wife was a mage?" Irina said. Anders shushed her. "How would that look? Imagine if they knew the… Princess-Consort of Starkhaven, or whatever his wife would be, is a mage."

"Well, you'd have influence. You could be a powerful voice in support of the mages." Anders turned and faced her. "Now that's a good idea. Maybe I'll give you away to Sebastian if Carver doesn't do it…"

"You wouldn't dare," Irina murmured, amused.

"I suppose not. Fenris would rip my heart off my chest for sure," Anders replied, causing her to blush. "The Princess-Consort of Starkhaven: a mage and an elven lover. You'd be popular," he chuckled.

Don't even mention it, Irina was about to say, when she realized that Anders had stopped dancing. Sebastian was standing nearby and signaled them. "May I dance with Milady Amell?" he asked politely.

"By all means," Anders said, amused of Irina's ill-disguised look of panic. "I'll talk to you later, sweetheart."

"Do you know this tune?" Sebastian asked. "It's a Fereldan one."

Irina nodded and smiled nervously. "I can't imagine you dancing to this tune, Brother."

"Well, lucky for you, you won't have to imagine it," he smiled, as he took her by the hand and joined the other couples.

Fenris looked away. Some things he just didn't need to see. He finished his drink and was going to pour himself some more wine when Anders took the goblet away from him and slapped him on the back of his head.

"Do you have a death wish?" Fenris grunted, rubbing the sore spot.

"So this is your idea of wooing a woman? Sitting here and drinking till you go blind?"

"Why do you care?" the elf muttered.

"Because I don't want her to be sent away to Starkhaven!" Anders hissed. "She's my friend, and I want her around."

"Why would she go to Starkhaven?" Isabela asked.

"Nooo! Don't tell me!" Varric gasped. "Get out of here! Are you serious, Blondie? The Princess, with Choir Boy?"

"You're calling her 'Princess' now?" Anders asked, dismayed.

"I always have! I must be a bit of a prophet!" Varric exclaimed, amused.

"Yes, sure, you're Andraste reincarnated," Isabela said before she turned to Anders. "How do you know all this? Did Irina tell you?"

"Sebastian did, of course. The idea certainly appeals to him," Fenris murmured. The others looked at him and huddled together to listen to what he surely had to say. "He came over to the mansion yesterday, to say that."

"Such a sneaky thing," Isabela muttered.

"Well, he said he'd come to let me know about the wedding. But he sure made a point of expressing his intentions."

"I'm surprised to see his face is still intact," Anders quipped. "You're always threatening people but you didn't think of giving him a good punch?"

Fenris shrugged. "He is somewhat right."

"WHAT?" The three of them had been noisier than they'd expected, and everyone turned to look at them. Disoriented, the only thing they managed to do was possibly the worst thing that they could have done: their eyes went from Fenris to Irina, who was now blushing intensely.

"Excuse me," she muttered as she left Sebastian standing alone and ran to the house. Fenris watched her go by and when he turned to his companions, they had an incredulous look in their faces.

"What are you waiting for, ass?" Isabela hit him on the arm. "Go after her!"

Hesitant but willing to walk away from the looks, Fenris stood up and went into the house. Behind him, Varric was waving his arms, saying, "Nothing to see here! Just an argument between lovers!"

Varric, you idiot, he thought as he looked around the house. He knocked on the bedroom door, but there was no reply. Perhaps the study room… He went down and opened the door slowly. "Irina?" he called out. The soft rustle of her dress told him that she was on the mezzanine.

"What do you want?" she said tiredly.

When he found her, she had taken off her shoes and was curled up in the biggest armchair there, holding a diary in her hands.

"Is everything alright? Did something happen with Sebastian?"

She closed the silk-bound book –a present given to her by him during the last Satinalia– and stared at him. "It's your fault. All of you, being loud and indiscreet! What were you even saying? No, don't tell me what you were talking about." She stood up and took the shoes in her hand. "It's better if I don't know. To answer your question: no, many things are not alright, and no, nothing happened with Sebastian." She walked past him and down the steps to the ground floor, seething – why did she feel so angry? Normally she would have appreciated some time alone with Fenris, but now…

He leaned against the door and crossed his arms. She raised her eyebrows. He locked the door and stood there, blocking the only way out. "We were talking about you and Sebastian, and how enthusiastic he seemed about marrying you. And I was telling them that he came to the mansion yesterday to tell me that."

Irina took a step back. "He actually told you that?" she murmured with a certain softness that didn't escape Fenris.

"He did. I suppose you like it, then?" he muttered. "I should have known…"

He had missed the point. To her, Sebastian saying that to Fenris only meant that he considered him a rival. But of course, Fenris had decided to take her hopes, crush them, and interpret them as a different wish. She raised her chin. "I may like it, yes," she said angrily. "What is it to you?"

"I thought we had something," he grunted.

"Something! After all this time, I don't know if there's something between us. You're nice to me one day and the next, you simply ignore me. You help me and get close to me and then you go and hide in that house for weeks!" She clenched her fists. "You kissed me and then you didn't even say goodbye! If that's the kind of future I can have with you, then I'm not sure I want it. And today…! At least Sebastian paid me a compliment! Now let me out!" she shouted, as her hand reached for the doorknob.

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him, capturing her lips with his in a firm kiss. She pushed him away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Their eyes locked together for a brief spell, long enough for her to drop her shoes and throw her arms around him, kissing him unrestrainedly. His hands circled her waist and crawled up her back possessively. "You're mine," he whispered between kisses. His mouth found her neck –smooth, unspoilt– and nibbled on it teasingly.

It wasn't her hands, which now were clinging to his clothes, but her warm breath on his skin and her soft sighs in his ear that drove him to hold her and pin her against the wall, pressing his body against hers. Her mouth looked for his once more, running her fingers through his hair. He licked her lips tentatively and was more than happy to see that she parted them eagerly. Their tongues met slowly, melting together in a kiss that made her burn. His hands were running over her, setting her on fire…

There was a knock on the door. "Irina, darling?" Leandra. "Is everything alright?"

Fenris let go of her and straightened his clothes. She fixed her hair and opened the door. "Mother?" she said, hoping that Leandra wouldn't notice the blush that was surely covering her cheeks.

"Carver wants to dance with you," Leandra said, catching a glimpse of Fenris behind her daughter. "And you know he's leaving tomorrow… Since we don't know when he's coming back…"

"Oh, sure! Yes, of course!" She walked out of the room and once she'd taken a few steps, she turned around. Fenris was holding the shoes. Leandra took them from him and gave him an odd look.

"I should go," Fenris said, clearing his throat. "I will talk to you later."

"When?" she asked demurely as she finished fixing her dress under the shocked look of her mother.

"Another day. You promised you'd teach me to read, remember?" His green eyes stared into her grey ones.

"Right. Yes. Well… Let me know when you want me to teach you, will you?" She put on her shoes and walked away, escorted by her mother.

Carver left at dawn. Leandra, Gamlen, Merrill, and Irina accompanied the Wardens to the docks. Irina saw her brother wearing the armor of the Order and in spite of what it meant –being separated from the rest of the world, facing dangers that only they could face– she felt at peace. Her brother had found his place in the world. He'd always been a warrior, and now he had the chance to be so openly and for a good cause.

However, when he said goodbye to Merrill, she couldn't help but feel anguished. The elf cried, and Carver's embrace was not tight enough to reassure her. He showered her and Inan with kisses, until Gamlen took them away. He hugged his mother and she let go of him almost too quickly, as if she couldn't bear to part with him again.

"Sister," he said to Irina. "There's not much time. I've been so happy with everything. I couldn't ask for a better family."

"I wish… Well, you know what I wish," Irina smiled sadly.

Carver nodded. "I miss them too. But our time has come, you know? We've got to walk our own path, raise our own families… And that's something I wanted to discuss with you."

"I know what you're going to say, and I don't think I could go through with it. I don't love him, Carver."

The Warden stared into his sister's eyes. "If he took hold of Starkhaven, you'd be untouchable. You'd be free."

"Would I? Really?" she wondered out loud.

"Just think about it. I know that you feel something for Fenris, and that he also feels something for you. But he's a fugitive slave, and Danarius is his life goal, not you." He looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, but that's the truth, and you know it. What happened to you in the caves… Can you imagine what Danarius will do if he can use you against him?" He held her by the shoulders. "I don't want you to be a casualty. We survive, at all costs. Look at me. Do you honestly think this is what I wanted? The Royal Army was one thing, but this…" He sighed. "Just… don't dismiss it so easily, will you?"

Irina hugged him silently. Soon after, the tide carried them away, and she stayed at the docks, thinking.

"You know I could heal you faster than chicken soup can," Anders reminded her as he watched her feed slowly. She'd caught a bad cold the day that Carver had left, and after a month, it had only got worse. "The only reason why I haven't moved a finger is because I'm interested in hearing why you've decided that it's better to stay in this room than venture outside." He sat on the bed and stared.

She coughed. "I don't want to rely on magic more than I should," she replied.

"Fair enough. Now, I assume this doesn't have to do with not wanting to see Fenris, right?"

"Of course not," she said weakly.

"Of course not," he repeated. "And I'm glad to hear that, because I told him to drop by today."

"You did what?" she said, alarmed.

"He's coming here. To see you. Just a friendly visit. Doctor's orders."

"Anders…" Irina protested, but the mage shushed her.

"Life's too short to waste it, sweetheart." He smiled, and Irina thought she could feel the nostalgia pouring out of him. Whatever he'd once been, he could never be again. He heard a knock on the door, and Sandal poked his head in.

"He's here!" he announced to Anders.

"Thank you, boy. And now, milady, I must leave you." Anders bowed and left the room.

Irina shuddered. She was running a temperature, she could feel it. She left the bowl of soup on the bedside table and covered herself. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him enter the room and close the door behind him.

"Don't come near," she warned him. His steps were slow but they nevertheless marched forward, towards her. "You don't want to catch whatever this is."

"Anders says it's not contagious," he said kindly. "But if you don't want me near, I understand." He stood near the fire, his green eyes on her thin face. How small she appeared to be now that she was lying in that bed. Pale and fragile, delicate and– "Beautiful."

"I'm sorry?" Irina asked.

Fenris sighed. "You are a beautiful woman, Irina Hawke. It took me a month to come up with that. Don't ask for more."

Irina smiled. After a while, she said, "Next week?"

"Pardon?"

"Your tutoring. Reading and writing. Shall we start next week?"

"Do you think you'll be fine by then?" Fenris asked, sounding almost concerned.

"Oh, I know I will," she replied.

She remembered the lessons with her mother. Teaching him how to use a quill properly wasn't hard, and it took him some time to get accustomed to his handwriting, but he was eager to learn. He was tireless, and after a few months, he could read almost as well as anybody else. Irina had to remind herself that the Imperial language was different from theirs, and it amazed her to see how well he could make connections between both languages.

The elves that they had rescued from Hadriana's den were living in the house now. Fenris had told them what to expect from their new lives as free people, and it had taken some time, but they had managed to find some jobs around the city. Still, as soon as they finished their tasks, they'd return to the house and keep to themselves, something that both Fenris and Irina wished they wouldn't do.

Sometimes, she would accompany him when he was out on a job. He'd taken to working with Isabela, and together with Varric, they made a habit of roaming the streets at night and doing away with the criminals that Aveline couldn't be bothered with. She was busy working with the Viscount on the Qunari question, and she'd welcome the help that her former companions could offer.

"What are you reading?" she asked one afternoon. He quickly closed the book that he'd been holding and hid it between others. "Oh! What was that?"

"Nothing you need to read," he said dismissively.

"But I'm curious. Why can't I see it?" Her eyes looked at the shelf, trying to remember what book it had been. He stood between her and the shelves.

"There's nothing to see here, and curiosity can be dangerous."

"So can be the streets of Hightown, but you're still willing to send me home alone today."

"Who said that? I thought you'd be going home with Orana."

"She's already there, remember? I guess you'll have to walk me home," Irina smiled. "Don't be lazy. Put on some boots and come with me."

"You can always stay," he murmured.

Irina swallowed hard. "Stay? Here? With you? Alone? I don't think so," she shook her head.

"Who said anything about 'alone'? The others-"

"There's a celebration in the Alienage, Fenris. It's their first Vir'elvhen. Merrill's there."

"You mean we're alone?" he asked in a low voice, holding her by the chin.

"You still have to behave," she murmured as she moved her face closer to his. "I've got a reputation to protect…"

He kissed her neck slowly, feeling her going soft in his arms. Her gorgeous neck was exposed; he'd wanted to nibble and bite it for such a long time that he could barely believe he was finally doing it. He felt her fingernails digging into his back and a gasp of surprise escaped her lips. He covered her mouth with his, kissing her slowly, and ran his hands up her sides.

She pressed her body against his. She could feel the need building up within her, but she was not sure about going through with it. As she kissed him, she wondered if she could ever have a normal family of her own. Marry first, children later. That was what she wanted. Not what her mother or Carver had had, but what Bethany had worked for. "Fenris…" she murmured between kisses.

He gazed into her eyes as he cupped her face with his hands. "Say it again."

"Fenris..." she repeated.

"Irina… I want you…" he growled softly in her ear before taking the earlobe between his teeth and teasing it with his tongue.

She moaned softly and was not surprised when he sat on the settee and pulled her against him. His hands were running over her body shamelessly now, caressing her breasts over the thin fabric of her shirt, his mouth never straying far from her lips and neck. She reacted to his touch, and gave him a long kiss that only helped to arouse him even more.

Her hands moved down his chest until they found the hem of his shirt. Before either of them knew what she was doing, she slid her hand under the fabric and touched his chest. She'd seen it before, but now… Now it was different. Now it felt right. He was so warm, so smooth…

He moaned as he felt his tattoos reacting to her touch. Not now, not that pain, he thought. Her lips were parted, and how inviting they were… He slid one hand up her back…

Black hair in the reflection of a blade. The fire burning within him.

His fingertips traced along the back of her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair…

The blood and the magic surrounding him. Cold, so cold, and yet so hot.

He pulled her head against his, meeting her tongue with his own…

A change. No more magic. No more memories. The pain, engraved in his flesh forever.

He shut his eyes tight as his other hand slid down her back, over her buttocks. He heard her muffled moan, her desire in his mouth… And his name…

Leto.

He opened his eyes. His skin was burning. He pushed her away gently and stood up.

"Fenris?" she called softly. "Are you alright? You're… glowing."

"I'm sorry…" he croaked. "I didn't mean to… I shouldn't have…" He hung his head.

"I'm fine," she said, standing up and hugging him from behind. "You didn't hurt me."

But you hurt me. The words appeared in his head and he tried to shake them off, but they still lingered. She brought the pain back. She hurt you. She's just another mage.

"No," he said out loud. He detached himself from her embrace and turned to face her. "Perhaps… We shouldn't–"

"You're right," she nodded. "We shouldn't." It took all of her willpower to produce a smile that would reassure him. "We can still be friends…"

He stroked her cheek. "It's not that," he said firmly. "I need to find out… These markings…" He looked at his arm, sore from the experience. The skin had been tightened, the skin was about to snap, and he would bleed, bleed until he died… "I have to learn more about them."

"Well, now that you can read, you can ask the Templars for access to the Circle Library. They won't keep you. No mage would have lyrium tattoos and survive the process."

"We'll see." He kissed her forehead. "Are you sure you're–?"

"I'm fine. It's… It's better this way," she said, fixing her clothes and her hair. "Could you walk me home? It's a little darker now…"

She managed to say goodbye to him at the door of the estate – always a smile on her lips. But the moment the door closed, the frustration and the heartache took over her. Somehow, she'd felt as if she'd hurt him. At some point, she'd realized that he wouldn't be able to give her what she wanted. And both things hindered the only thought that she had in her mind when they were together.

I love you.

She couldn't say it. He wouldn't say it. And the words kept filling every free moment, every spare thought that she had. She felt the tears coming, and she hurried to reach her bedroom before anyone could see her.

"You're home, Mistress? Something arrived for you!" she heard Bodahn say, but she closed the door behind her and hid her face in her hands.

"Is there something wrong, Bodahn?" Leandra asked, coming out of the kitchen.

"I think your daughter may need some time on her own, Mistress," the dwarf said. "I thought that the sight of the white lilies that arrived for her would cheer her up, but I guess that'll have to wait."

...

A/N: Thanks a lot for sticking by, guys! To the new readers, welcome! And here's another silly Azalea's Dolls thingy I made for the wedding (minus the spaces) - fav. me/ d7i0ql0

By the way, Sebastian's chant is -of course- part of the Canticle of Benedictions from the Chant of Light.