When she was well enough to move around the house, she had them all over for dinner. Bohdan and Oranna prepared a feast and managed all the arrangements. All she had to do was negotiate the stairs under Anders' watchful gaze and make it to the dining room. A well-padded chair was set at the head of the table for her, and all her friends gathered around.
Once the hellos had died down and people started to settle into their chairs, Fenris sidled up to her. "I raided the cellar for a suitable celebratory drink," he said. "This has been aging down in the cellar for at least a decade. I've no idea what its true value is, but I can promise that Danarius would be horrified to know we were the ones drinking it." He presented the wine for her inspection with a small smile.
"I can't wait," Hawke told him. She waved her hand. "Orana, what's left of the old Amell crystal is in the locked cabinet, second from the window. Bohdan has the key. I think the slavers left enough glasses for all of us." She winked at Fenris. "Expensive wine deserves the expensive goblets, so long as you're not going to drink it straight out of the bottle."
"You really shouldn't be drinking at all, you know," tisked Anders. "As your healer..."
"Shut it, Anders." She smiled and wagged a finger at him. "Your days of bossing me about are numbered. It's my party, and one glass of wine won't kill me. I'm not going to miss it."
A lovely but slightly mismatched set of glasses were soon presented by an anxious-looking Oranna. Fenris poured the wine himself, handing the first glass to Hawke. She held the goblet in her hands, breathing it in before taking a small sip. She smiled at Fenris. "It tastes like autumn. Not in Kirkwall - fall here is all burning trash and nasty harbor smells - like autumn in Ferelden."
"Are you saying it tastes like wet dog?" asked Varric.
"If so, I'll pass," added Anders wryly.
She laughed. How nice it was to be able to laugh without pain again. "No, it doesn't taste even a little bit like dog. It would serve you all right if I said it did, though, and kept it for myself." She took another sip. "I taste leather, dried blackberries, and... road dust, I think. It's wonderful, Fenris. Thank you."
She looked around the table at her friends, laughing in the candlelight. She was tired from sitting up so long, but she didn't want to go to bed quite yet.
Varric held court from the foot of the table, regaling them all with some ridiculous tale from his youth, his earrings flashing as he gestured. Merrill was curled up in her chair, knees to her chest, eyes as big as saucers as she drank in his words, no doubt believing every one of them. Between Merrill and Hawke sat Anders, his fingers fussing with the silverware, a tightness around his eyes even when he smiled. He'd declined seconds but scraped his plate meticulously clean; maybe she should ask Bodhan to arrange for food to be brought down to the clinic in the evenings to make sure he was eating properly. She wondered if Justice underestimated the importance of taking care of Anders' physical needs, or if he was being punished for wasting his time caring for Hawke instead of freeing the mages. She sighed.
On her other side, Aveline was whispering something into Donnic's ear, her red-gold head against his dark one. Hawke was glad - truly glad - they'd managed to find a way to each other at last, even if their easy affection made her heart ache just a little. Aveline wore a ring with a modest sparkle; she'd come to see Hawke a few days earlier to tell her she and Donnic were now engaged to be married.
On Donnic's other side sat Fenris, silver hair gleaming in the candlelight, smiling openly at Varric's tale. Hawke had missed the joke, but she smiled all the same to see the elf looking so relaxed. He had come a long way from the porcupine they'd first met, or even from the mess he'd been after Hadriana. Her mind skittered away from thoughts about that time, and she looked down to twine her fingers around the stem of her almost-empty glass. True to her promise, she'd only had the one, and she'd been saving the last sip. When she looked up again, Fenris was looking at her. He raised his glass slightly, and she smiled, copying his gesture before drinking the last of her wine.