So, you awesome people, how goes it? Well, I hope. It's 4 am my time and I stayed up all night writing for you! Aren't I awesome? It's a little sappy, fluffy. Yeah. But it's a long one! That's a good thing. OK, my mind might be running a little slow, it's been a long day, so forgive me if something doesn't fit, and let me know.

In case you haven't gotten enough Fenris time to realize it, he doesn't remember much about the goings on in the Fade, and he's not quite aware of that when he's dreaming. It's a product of him being a nonmage in the fade. He's just relieved that the dreams are pleasant.

OK, so reviews are nice, super thanks to Exxie for her review of the last chapter. Thanks to y'all who favorite and followed, but Idk if the site is sending out updates, someone told me she didn't get an update for 7 and 8. If you guys are getting that problem, I'm sorry, I don't really know how to fix it. I can only say I usually update late night or early morning- for me. US Pacific time. And I update every day or every couple days.

Soonish I'll be starting missions for Hawke, so if anyone has an idea of some sort of hijinks they'd like to see our characters in, I'd be happy to take your suggestions in PMs or reviews. Thanks again for being so cool!

Dortoka is Basque for Turtle.

…

Fenris had only the barest recollection of his dreams. They were mostly… pleasant. At least, in comparison to his waking hours. He remembered that there were two women who appeared in the Fade with him, and they three fought demons together very nearly nightly, unless the women had… work? Of some sort. He also remembered mention of a Free Marches city situated on the edge of the sea, dead fathers, husbands, living brothers, ogres, and Flemeth… whomever she was. He was wary of the feeling of anticipation that these dreams stirred within him, yet he could no more avoid the necessity of sleeping, than he could avoid eating and breathing. Nightmares, at least, did not trouble him as they had in Tevinter.

Ostwick was comfortably situated upon the cost of the Waking Sea. Fenris tried not to think about what that meant in conjunction to the pleasant dreams he'd been having. There was no time, however, for roaming the beaches, or enjoying any views. "I am being hunted." He was forced, often, to remind himself. "I must remain alert." He said under his breath, as he perused a market stall for foodstuffs which would keep. Breads, and other baked goods, that was when he saw it. His first cookie. For some inexplicable reason he felt that he would give most of his coin, or all of it, for that piece of pastry. "Bread, Serrah?"

"I, yes, bread, and how many of those do you have?" He gestured at the pastry in question."

"A sovereign's worth, serrah."

"How many?"

"I've got… two dozen in three different flavors, ser."

"And they are nutritious?"

"Sure." The shopkeeper was telling an untruth. "They won't fill you like bread will, though."

"A sovereign in cookies, and one in bread." He said, feeling greedy. "They will keep?" Fenris took out his mediocre coin purse, and extracted the two coins, as the shop keeper looked at him doubtfully.

"Of course."

"That's a lot of food, serrah."

"I am a traveler. I don't get to town often." He said, by way of explanation."

"Seems like what you're buying could feed a whole band of people."

"It might." He replied tersely.

"You a bandit?"

Fenris growled, "Do you make a habit of asking such untoward questions?"

"Only when my patrons look like you."

"Like me." He chipped the words off, and snarled, "And what do I look like?"

"Like a cold hearted killer." The man said, unfazed.

"I have killed many, but each of them chose their paths, and provoked my blade."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Why would I?" Fenris asked. "My provisions?"

"Where does an knife ear get that kind of coin?"

"From dead shop keepers too stupid to keep their mouths shut in front of wealthy and angry elves."

The man bristled, but Fenris pointed at the coin, and said, "I can take it elsewhere."

"You might have a hard time getting it back from me." he said.

Fenris licked his lips, "It would be the work of a moment. Are you going to give me what I paid for, or do I go elsewhere?"

The shop keeper placed fifteen baguettes into Fenris' bag, and wrapped the cookies in a pretty kidskin, then placed them into a smallish box. "For your trouble, serrah." Fenris deposited another silver on the table, and walked away, blending into shadow, then weaving through the streets fearing that he might be followed. After a few minutes, he doubled back, and watched the shop. Four women, six children and one man came and bought pastries or bread, then an armored man came and bought information.

"A knife ear…" Fenris heard, "Tattoos all over his body."

"Yeah, the blighter dropped two gold sovereigns, no wonder how he got that kind of coin …" Fenris heard what he needed to, cursing himself for his indiscretion. All for cookies. He opened the box once he'd gotten to a relatively secluded area, unwrapped the pastries, then pulled a dark brown one with brown spots. He licked his lips, noticing that it was still warm.

Fenris cursed his distracted mind as the smell made his stomach growl loudly. He looked around, noted a large lumpy looking sack around three yards away with suspicion, then bit into the crispy, meltey, gooey goodness. It was very good. If his dreams were filled with things as delectable as these cookies, he could understand his fascination. He was suddenly intensely glad to have bought so many.

…

. .

…

Li'rae. Fenris relished in knowing her true name. She was sitting when he found her, relaxing in a vibrant light which set her lovely features ablaze. Sipping tea, it seemed. He did not notice until he was before her, that her body was coiled tightly, and features charged with intense irritation. "What comes, Fenris?" She asked, her voice like burning acid.

"I… do not know?" He said silently questioning her mood.

"Demons. I apologize. I am not angry with you."

"Right." He said, reassured.

"And how is life as a free man?"

"It is…" He wondered for a moment what he should say. What he could say, to ease her, "You inspired me today." He told her. She looked at him, the sharpness in her gaze not directed at him, though it still stung. "Bethy told me about that escapade with the witch of the wild. I… bought cookies."

Her lips twitched, "Did you?"

"Yes. I can now believe that you personally lured a dragon to your rescue with pastries."

She snorted, but her mood remained sour.

"If you had more, I might even believe that you could stop the blight with them."

"You are a strange elf."

"Cookies are delightful. Before today, I had heard of them, but never tasted them."

She looked at me doubtfully, "Never? You never had a cookie?"
"No. Not even in my dreams. Slaves are not permitted such luxuries."

"Mother baked all the time when we lived in Lothering. Especially when father was sick. He told her that cookies made him feel better."

"I believe him." Fenris said, trying to goad her laughter. "They certainly made me feel better."

He got to watch as a small smile bloomed on her lips, and pinked her cheeks, "Enjoy another for me when you wake up."

"I will." He promised, thinking, 'anything to make you smile.'

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes." He said.

"And… you promise not to spare my feelings?"

"I… would not lie to you." He said, not certain he was telling the truth, if by telling a lie he could spare and not harm her.

"Do you ever… dream… aside from this? Did you? Before we met?"

"I… my mind conjured images, and the creatures of the Fade made them dance. I always… knew, when it was a demon had latched onto an image. It seemed to take on more significance. Beyond that, I sometimes remembered beatings. Sometimes, remembered… a ritual… which imbued my body with the extraordinary strength and power Danarius required of his pet." He snarled, "It was excruciating. I am glad I am no longer plagued with such memories in my sleep. My time with you is… pleasant."

She smiled, "Thank you, Fenris."

"You're welcome."

"Do you believe that… one should provide for their family regardless of the consequences, so long as it does not involve demons, and blood magic… specifically smuggling?"

"I… cannot say. If I had a family, and smuggling were the only way to provide them a home, I would not hesitate. However, if slaves are involved-"

"I would never do that Fenris."

"Never?" He asked. Raising a brow.

"No. No amount of money is enough to buy a man's life."

"Some men sell their lives very cheaply, though they call their living free."

She contemplated his words for a moment, turning them over in her head, before saying, "Some men, for the sake of preserving their lives, do not live."

He blushed, "Are you- I do-"

"Fenris, I was not speaking of you. Some of the refugees in Kirkwall… they're so frail, and they… they kill and steal from eachother, fighting over scraps. They say, at least we're alive, and I say, don't be stupid. Not one of them are really alive! I have tasted what it is to live. I have stood on the peaks of mountains in thunderstorms, and I, at the center of it felt every droplet before it fell and bathed the world!" She said, watching as the scene before her reflected her words. She shivered.

"I have watched such power drive men to madness." Fenris said carefully.

"I was not the cause of the storm, Fenris. I used no magic to incite it."

"No? Not even a little?"

"I swear it. This was a natural storm, and I did get reamed by mother for getting soaked in the storm, and not coming straight home, or hiding. It was just after… marriage talks."

"What?"

"Mother wanted to find me a husband. A hardworking man, willing to protect me and overlook the fact that I was a mage." She said, "Probably a farmer."

"I cannot fathom that."

"I agree, and said so. Me! A farmer's wife with eight children and a garden? Me, a woman who can't keep a rosebush alive save for the Maker's intervention? No."

"You, a beautiful, vivid creature, unwilling to accept your role in society, forging a new one through familial devotion and dumb luck." Fenris chuckled, "No Hawke, you are not suited to a static life."

"Thank you, Fenris." She said, "Beautiful, vivid? That was sweet."

Fenris looked down, and stilled his jittery tongue. Every time that woman paid him a compliment he stuttered like a boy. "I believe it to be true." He said, he hoped, coherently.

She nodded, "You know, as long as we're saying what we believe is true, I think I should tell you, you are absolutely the most handsome elf I have ever met." His cheeks flamed, and he tried to hide it, looking down so that his hair hid his blush. "Also, I should tell you, Hawke is a family name. I don't usually let people outside the family call me anything else… but I'd like it if you called me Rae."

His heart jumped, "Rae?"

The chair she had been sitting in slowly coalesced into a soft looking mat of fabric with blankets and cushions. "Sit with me." He obliged her, placing himself after brief consideration as far from her, at the center of the mat, as he could. "Really? Come a little closer."

He reluctantly followed her direction, keeping just out of reach. There was still an arid tension in her which made him nervous. "What is this about, Rae? There may be demons about."

"It is the Fade. They may be anywhere, but I am tired. I killed twenty-seven men this evening. Fourteen of them were hardly older than children. Blighted Atheneril. Blighted Gamlen and his 'solution'. Blighted Kirkwall and her damnable criminals, and me, damn me for not being able to figure out how to-"

Fenris reached out to her, cupped her chin, and brought their faces together for a kiss. It was tentative, purposed more to still her voice than to bring the warmth and pleasure he suddenly craved. When he pulled back to look at her, her eyes were half closed, and she looked far too pleased. He coughed awkwardly, "You talk too much, Li'rae."

She giggled, soft. Nuzzled his neck impulsively, drawing herself closer to him now that he had unexpectedly opened the door to such intimacies. His breath was quick. "Then, rather than a peaceful evening at home, I come to find my drunken uncle berating my mother for abandoning her parents for love of my father. And then, in my dreams I am attacked by four desire demons, throwing possibilities of wealth and sex and power, all promising worlds for pennies, for just a moment, just a word, or a touch. All the pain I've ever felt, could be soothed away, and I, though I know what they're doing, though I know it's impossible, I want it! I want everything they offer me so badly I ache with it. I hurt from it. Cutting myself away from their promises was like cauterizing a wound, I am raw, Fenris."

He bit his lip, swallowing fear, he smoothed her hair, "Li'rae, you… where… Kirkwall?"

"Yes."

"I… could…"

"Fenris?"

The next words, promises were heavy, "I have business yet… where I am. I am nearly one month's travel from you… but my business will take at least that long… in two months time, I will be in Kirkwall, Li'rae."

She stilled, "Will you?" Her words were careful. More cautious than he had heard them before.

"I will. That way, I… can protect you." His reasoning sounded so terribly weak. This woman had destroyed an ogre, ridden a blighted dragon over a horde of darkspawn, and he thought she needed him? His beautiful intentions suddenly withered before his eyes, and he felt sick, certain that he would mistake his concern for condescension. That she would laugh, and tell him all the things he knew about her, and push him away like a soiled towel. Useful for a while, yet disposable. The fade clouded along with his mood, melting the isolated image and as he noticed, he tried frantically to shape it. Anything save this awful representation which colored in vivid detail all around them all the horror, pain, and wilting desire he felt in relation to anything, but especially her. In the distance he heard the harsh crack of Danarius' voice as he snarled 'heel'.

Rae, Maker bless her soul, noticed the vision of his former master with a cold consideration. She held out her hand, and blasted him to pieces, then looking pointedly at the man who still held her in his half reluctant arms, she waved her hands about, dissolving the terrible fade reality he had conjured, "This is not reality." She said. "This is emotion. Yes." He nodded in response, still vaguely paralyzed by the whip of his master's voice. "Look at me, Fenris." She leaned her forehead against his so that she filled his vision, and all other senses.

"How can I not?" He wondered aloud.

"Now… in two months I will be free from my commitment to Atheneril." She told him.

Crushing disappointment filled him. The next words from her lips would be assurances that she did not need him.

"Look around you. You made me feel… this." He pulled back from her reluctantly as he felt the warmth of a noonday sun, the cascading of waves off in the distance and not quite salty seaspray peppering the air. Their mat was suddenly on a ribbon of white sand which glittered and reflected warmth. There were also trees, willing to cover them in cool shade if the need arose. There was nothing else. He noticed that her attire had changed. She'd been wearing her armor. Now, a teasing band of cloth wrapped around her neck, and down her body, accentuating curves he had not known existed. He flushed, noticing how little she wore.

"Vulnerable?" He guessed, "And overwarm?"

She laughed again, "No."

"Misplaced? That is how I feel."

"Overwarm, or misplaced?" She asked in a sultry voice.

"All three. This beach offers no cover. We would be easily targeted from, there." He pointed to a cliff not far off.

She waved her hand and the cliff disappeared, but the trees grew, and a large stony outcropping rose, all points at the top with a slope from their side. "Now?"

He grunted, "It is still a beach."

"You are a hard elf to please." She frowned. "Overwarm?"

He grunted, "The… sun."

She raised an eyebrow. "I've always suspected that you lived in some tropical climate, with palm trees, and a jungle… Hot."

"I… they told me I was from Seheron. It is as you describe."

She closed the nearly nonexistent gap between them, and kissed him again. He decided there and then that he would go to Kirkwall, if only to experience that slow, teasing touch with his real lips, where her body had a taste that he could not change with a thought. "Swim with me."

"You are dangerous, Hawke." He said, his mind languid.

"Rae. And yes, I am." She said, pulling him to the warm water. "Now, that armor will not do."

"I-"

"You can have it back if a demon comes along."

"What would I…"

"Shortened leggings, looser, though." She produced a pair, and handed them to him. They were bright red.

"Minx." He chided, finding nowhere to go that would provide… privacy from that stare of hers.

"Mmm. Call me that again, and I'll show you a minx."

"Look away." He said.

She chuckled, "Now, why would I do that?"

He pursed his lips and conjured a wooden screen and placed it between them, he peeked out from behind it, "Coquette." He accused. Then ducked back, and changed into those shorts. He looked down at himself, the ugly lyrium brands did not exist in the fade. It was only him. Bare and unmarred by Danarius' cruelty. He cringed, wondering how he would appear to her when she met him in Kirkwall.

"I'm a coquette! Really? You put up a privacy screen and I'm the tease."

He felt no compunction to spare her, "Yes. You are." He said stepping out just as she launched herself at him, tackling him into the sand, he rolled out from beneath her, surprised by her strength, but before he could get away, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him back. "Vixen."

"How many words are there for 'tease'?"

"As many as there are women." He said to provoke her. He was secretly savoring it.

She glared at him, dropped his wrist, and sprinted in the other direction, across the endless strand of sand. Her feet left little divots, and her gaite was shambling. He easily caught up. Placing himself in her way. She turned about and sprinted back the way they'd come, scowling. He followed at a playful trot, tugging at her hair, feeling all the heaviness of his life lifted.

"Rae?" He called after her.

"Don't call me that!"

"You just made me."

"I am not a tease!"

He bounded in front of her, and gripped her shoulders. She looked at him reproachfully through her eyelashes. "I apologize."

"You don't mean it."

"But I do." He said earnestly, cupping her chin, "I truly do." Intensely.

She swallowed, eyes flitting down his chest, and arms, "You are too charming."

"Perhaps I am the minx?" He said rhetorically.

She snickered, "No. You are a turtle."

"What?" His voice was sharper than intended.

"Think about it. You're always holed up in that spikey armor, you're reserved. I never knew you wanted to kiss me… protect me…" She murmured the last words tentatively. "I never knew you cared. I flirted and you'd stare blankly, and-"

"Wait? I missed something."

"I flirt with you and you-"

"How does my failure to grasp your intentions make me a turtle? Turtles are slow, easily frightened, and-"

"It was a metaphor, Fen."

His face contorted, and for a moment she thought he was going to lash out about the turtle thing, instead, it was the shortened version of his name. "Fen? Why- Fen? Truly?"

"You would rather I call you the Dalish equivalent of turtle?"

He blinked at her, "You… how did you know that it was Dalish?"

"I grew up in Ferelden. We had two Dalish tribes pretty much set up shop. I never got a language tutor or anything, but they respected father, and so they let us listen to stories. Fen'harel is the Dread wolf. Wolf being the Fen part, and… you don't care."

"No." He said, "I don't."

"Well, sorry." She huffed, not looking nearly repentant enough.

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you?"

"Not really. Only a bit. Dortoka." She grinned impishly, daring him to ask. He almost didn't.

"What did you call me?"

"The Dalish word for Turtle."

"Sister! Making up pet names already?" Li'rae spun about to see Bethy comfortably situated in a cushy looking lounge chair, "No, no, this is entertaining, pay me no mind."

Fenris was terribly embarrassed, "How long have you been there?"

"Since she said she wasn't really sorry."

"I suspect you aren't either."

"Not in the least." She said. Fenris turned and went to sit on the edge of the water, far away from either woman.

Bethany asked her sister, "What's wrong with him?"

"I suspect he doesn't like unrepentant mages." Rae said, scratching her head. "He's so damn moody I can't get a read on him."

"Moody is better than broody." She said.

"Not by much."

"You like your big broody dream elf, so go over and make him feel like it. Go on, I'll just entertain myself over here."

"Not a chance." Li'rae said, "He's grouchy, and I just called him a turtle."

"Did you think it'd make him feel like being romantic? Go on sister!"

"In a moment." She knelt by Bethy's chair, "He says he's going to come to Kirkwall."

Bethany's eyes rounded, and her mouth dropped open, "Wow."

"It gets better. He's coming to protect me."

"Awwww."

She lifted a finger to her lips, "And he kissed me."

Bethany covered her mouth, "And you called him a turtle!"

Rae bit her lip, nodding, "But in my defense, he was calling me minx and vixen-"

"Names for pretty flirty women. It fits."

"Turtle fits him! He-"

"Kissed you, and told you he wants to be close to you. Yes, very turtle like."

"I… you make me sound so mean."

Bethany pointed to Fenris commandingly, "Go make up."

"Now I know what Fenris means by 'the tyranny of mages.'" Li'rae muttered sulking. She sighed, and trotted off to do as she was told. "So… I've been a total arse." She said, sitting beside him. "We were having a perfectly nice evening, and I go ruining it by calling you names."

His lips quirked, "Yes, you did."

"Well… you could forgive me."

"Why?"

Rae frowned, "Because… you like me."

He looked at her sideways, "I… might."

"You do. You got to eat a cookie because of me."

He chuckled, "Maybe."

"I was led to believe it was a very good cookie."

He was trying to keep his frown much harder than he should have had to. "I do not like being teased."

"I wasn't teas-"

"You were having a laugh at my expense. Explain the difference to the poor slave turtle."

She cringed at the very real hurt in his voice, and took one of his hands, caressing it. He tensed at her touch, and was going to pull away before she said, "I apologize." As she leaned toward him. "I can hardly wait to see you."

He turned to her, "I am here now."

"Yeah, but…" She gestured around, "This is the Fade."

"Ah. You wish to see me in Kirkwall." His tone was harsh.

"Yes." She said, scooting closer, leaning on his shoulder. He tolerated her touch but did not return it.

"Why?"

"Because… I trust you. Because I'd like to kiss you in the flesh. Umm. So that you can…

protect me."

"Ah, yes." He said, recalling the beginning of the shared dream. "That was foolish. You do not need me."

"You remember what I said about all this? Emotion. It's how I feel. Notice, no weapons, no magic, just you and me, on a beach, running up and down on the sand. Playing." She closed her eyes and inhaled a mixture of mistrust and anxiety from him. "I haven't played since I turned ten. Years and years ago, Fenris." He frowned at her, though she couldn't see it. "You make me feel like… it's safe to drop the staff. Safe to step away from the role of protector. I can fry an ogre to bits, but I'm too scared to take off my robes and leave my staff at home even just for a jaunt to a bar."

"You should keep your staff with you if you go to a bar. Violence is likely where alcohol meets the lips of weak men."

"What's this, you approve of a mage and her weapon?"

"I disapprove of a lady in a bar unprotected. That is not the fade where you can pull a weapon from the air. It is not safe."

"I've never been called a lady before, Fenris." She said, seeking to change the subject.

"No? You are one." Haha! Success.

"Breasts and all." She chuckled.

"Lady Rae." He kissed her hair. "I will come to you as soon as I am able." The promise fell from his lips awkwardly, a chain? "I… admit that I am eager to see you with my own eyes."

"You know, I don't actually have this outfit, right?" She ribbed him.

"Yes, yes, make fun of the brooding elf."

"You like the attention, and you know it." She laughed, getting up, and then offering him her hands. He leaned back, and looked at her. Really looked, not just a cursory noticing of where she was covered- however scantily.

He allowed his eyes to curve over her ample chest, and down her waist to her hips, encircling her thighs, and the barely visible from his angle, bottom. His attention made her blush, but she didn't hide. "Perhaps I will purchase an outfit like it for you, then take you to a beach?"

She laughed. "No beaches in Kirkwall. The closest you can get here is the wounded coast."

"Pity." He sighed.

She grabbed his hands, and pulled him to his feet. "Catch me if you can." She said, and ran away impishly, stopping to look behind and make sure he was following before she dove into the water.

"Minx." He called as he chased her.

…

. .

…

"Kirkwall…" The city name was on his lips before he had woken. "Danarius has an estate in Kirkwall, perhaps, if I… I could lure him out. Yes."

He was pleased with himself at having come up with such an idea. He could hardly wait to get there, so eager to finally face Danarius! Yet… what if it were a trap? What if the Fade had planted the idea in his head to make him come to the Magister. Images filled his mind devoid of conscious logic, only the timeless beauty of dreaming. Flashes of freckled pink skin, and bare legs splashing in the surf told him his dreams could hardly have been responsible. It was the Mage girl again. He suddenly felt very lonely. "I am pining over a false reality. I must move. If Danarius comes, I can kill him. If not, I will wait for him. Either way, he will die." That was a comforting thought. He stood up, and moved about his business, but not before he rummaged through his pack, and ate another of his treasured cookies.