Thank you so much to Bear Mage, Fallon-Idalia, Wicked Lullaby, Arquise, Spadequeen and Kira Tamarion for your wonderful reviews! I definitely take into account your hopes for the story.

That being said, sorry I've been slow on the update recently. Here's a nice long chapter for you. I sort of hit a brick wall in the story, but I'm past it and now I'm cranking away the pages again. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Fenris became ill again overnight. He fell into his hellish nightmares unsuspecting, a fever sprouting. He ached everywhere, felt sore everywhere as he transitioned between feeling like he was frozen to trying to take his clothes off because he was too hot. Astoria stayed by his side on the bed most of the time and hummed and sang to him.

He had a damp cloth on his forehead the next night, Astoria's fingers running gently through his hair. He had his arms wrapped around one of her thighs, his head beside her knee. He was delirious still, in his fog barely realizing that it was Astoria comforting him.

Astoria poured cool water down his throat when he didn't fight her, which was tricky. She made him eat small bites throughout the day, and it was a wonder he didn't choke since he wasn't exactly fully coherent. He was able to come into reality for a few moments, stumbling weakly to use the bathroom, but he couldn't remember doing so.

But his fever broke by the morning, the second morning of being at the farm. It hadn't been as long as the last time he had been ill.

When he woke up, Astoria was sitting beside him on the bed, switching out the cloth on his forehead. He groaned, hating himself for having missed so much time.

"How long?" He asked, surprised at how his throat wasn't too parched.

"You only missed one day, two nights."

It was better than three days. Fenris gave a small nod. "Why is this happening?"

Astoria shook her head. "I couldn't tell you, Fenris. I still think it has to do with you getting your memories back."

He shut his eyes. If the ngihtmares and fevers were the price he'd pay for the memories, then that would be fine with him. He just wished they didn't leave him so useless and weak feeling.

"Thank you," he murmured, raising a hand to the cloth on his forehead.

"Of course." She gave him a weary smile.

"Have you slept?"

She chuckled as if that was an absurd question. "Don't worry about me. Just get yourself better."

He shut his eyes and curled a gentle fist in the bottom of her tunic, tugging on it. Astoria laughed.

"Fenris?"

He hummed something, too exhausted to speak anymore and tugged on her tunic once more. Astoria got the message and laid down beside him on the bed. After all, it was her bed, she should be able to use it, right?

Fenris put his palm on her hip and breathed in the smell of her hair, drifting off into a nightmare-less sleep for the first time in days.

That day Fenris recovered in bed, sleeping off his exhaustion of having a nightmare-ridden, sleepless twenty-four hours. He felt useless as Astoria took care of him, but he hadn't minded too much. No one had ever taken such good care of him. In fact, no one had bothered to try before.

Sure, the abomination had healed him when he needed it, but those had always been tense moments, and Fenris hated every second of it meanwhile still being aware that he'd die if the man hadn't been there. Astoria was caring for him, and he felt guilty, as if being sick were keeping her from her son.

To his luck, the next day Fenris found out that they had one more day left before they would be smuggled into Minrathous, almost a day's journey to the north. This gave him an entire day to relax.

He went to his mother's grave early that morning while Astoria went to the house where Norval and the others stayed and bathed. He sat in the grass beside the flowers and looked around.

He didn't believe that her spirit was anywhere, watching over him. He didn't believe in that kind of thing, but as he sat there, he wished he did, wished he could reach out to her.

He wished she was alive so he could talk to her. He'd tell her that he had wanted to find her, that he had wondered about her and his father. He'd ask her so many questions. He'd apologize to her, because somewhere deep down he knew that he was not the man she would have expected him to be. He was a monster. He was a cold-blooded murderer cursed with the ability to tear out men's hearts.

He was not her Leto, of that he was sure.

He plucked a small flower and spun it by the stem in his fingers, looking at the thing as if it were a foreign and curious object.

His mother's last words were, "Tell Leto I love him."

Fenris shivered.

This had been his greatest wish for so long, his fantasy. To have a family that loved him. He shut his eyes and relived the memory of his marriage, indulging himself.

He had made vows, in front of his mother and sister, to Astoria. He had promised her so much. He wondered how disappointed Sharna would be in him if she lived. He smelt the flower in his hand and opened his eyes. Astoria was striding up towards the barn, and upon noticing him she gave him a smile and a wave, her hair falling wet over her shoulders.

Fenris sighed and glanced at the flat tombstone.

"You are the gentle breeze, guided by the sun and the moon."

He put the flower down in the center of the stone and got to his feet, leaving his mother's side.

That day had been one of the better ones of his life.

It was such an odd glimpse at normal, domestic life. This was the way people his age usually lived when they weren't working – at home, cooking and cleaning and enjoying things. Astoria taught him how to bake an apple pie, which they ate in the afternoon with some bottles of wine as they watched the sky redden while the sun made its slow arc down towards the horizon.

No one from the rebellion came to bother them. It was as if they were living in their own home, without a care in the world.

Fenris loved it, but he wouldn't admit it.

They didn't speak much, but Astoria sang and Fenris liked that just as much. She sang songs in Arcanum, songs in Elvhen, songs in Common. Fenris understood them all except for the elvhen ones, and in those he could still pick out a few words, thanks to Merrill. They were all happy, mostly folk songs. Some he had heard before at Danarius' parties, some in dark taverns across Thedas.

But they never sounded as good as they did now, coming from Astoria's almost ethereal voice.

When the sun had set, Fenris considered himself drunk. He sat against the outside wall of the barn and watched the twilight spread across Thedas. He was alone, watching the clouds on the horizon to the north.

Minrathous was in that direction, standing tall somewhere underneath those clouds. He felt dizzy thinking about his imminent arrival in that city.

He took a swig of the wine and tried to forget about that for now.

His emerald eyes flitted over the landscape. He loved it there. He enjoyed getting his first glimpse at a pleasant domestic life. This is what he could have been doing for the past ten years, if he hadn't needed to spend that time running to survive.

All this time he could have been enjoying sunsets, drinking wine, eating apple pie, sleeping in the same bed, not having to worry that a magister would find him to rip the flesh from his bones.

Astoria sat beside him suddenly and he startled for a quick moment. Her knee was against his thigh and he moved his wine bottle out of the way, inviting her to sit against the wall beside him. She moved and unrolled something in her hands.

"Are you alright, Fenris?"

He swallowed. "Must we go to Minrathous? Can that witch not meet us here?"

Astoria frowned. "If that will make you happy, we can do that."

Fenris was more than aware of the pain that showed on her face, the reluctance with which she said those words. If they had Varania meet them where they were, Astoria would lose precious days, at least a week, in her search for Lysander. And they had less than a month before the magisters would be convening, their window of opportunity shrinking.

"But...?"

Astoria gave him a small smile. "There is no 'but', Fenris. We will ask her to come here."

Fenris dropped his head, heartened at her kindness. "You shame me."

Astoria curled her fingers in the white fabric she held on her lap. "F..Fenris?"

"No, we will go to Minrathous." He leaned his head back against the barn door. "I won't keep you from Lysander any longer than necessary."

She smiled. "Thank... thank you."

"If we have her come here, we'd waste too much time. I've already held you back... getting ill and all. But what if it happens again in the city? You can't carry me if I get sick."

Astoria nodded in the growing dark. "I don't have a plan for that. I can have someone from the rebellion come with us."

Fenris frowned and sighed. "This is going to end badly, Astoria."

Astoria reached over and squeezed his thigh just above his knee. Fenris dropped his palm onto her hand, locking it there.

Maker's breath, he was drunk, by his standards anyway. Drunk for Fenris qualified for being buzzed for other people. He didn't like to lose control over himself from alcohol, and would consider himself drunk whenever that control seemed to be nearing its end.

Astoria smiled. "Fenris, no one knows that you're with me. Only your friends know. I didn't mention you in any letters to Varania, or anywhere. Actually, the letters weren't even to her, they were to Hollan in Minrathous."

"If any of that is a lie, I need to know, right now." He squeezed her hand briefly, a small scowl on his face.

"Fenris...," she sighed long suffering. Fenris knew she wasn't lying to him, she wasn't planning on betraying him, but he needed to hear it. "The fact that you even have to ask..."

She pulled her hand away from under his and dropped it onto her own lap with a hint of frustration. She looked at the fabric in her other hand and then gave it to him, dropping it in his hand.

"What is this?" Fenris picked up the white pouch. Inspecting it more closely he noticed tiny beads threaded into the fabric; beautiful greens and blues and pale yellows. A silver, thin rope held it shut.

"A couple things that belonged to Sharna. Letters to her from your father, her wedding ring."

Fenris' went still, looking at her suspiciously. "You said my mother couldn't read."

"She couldn't. She had her friend read these for her."

Fenris nodded. "Can you tell me more about him?"

"Read and find out." She smiled solemnly, nodding to the pouch.

Fenris curled his fingers around the opening of the pouch and tugged, his throat constricted. "Astoria..." he paused, looking up to her as firelight from inside the barn drifted out through the open door, "I apologize for thinking that you would lie to me."

She leaned into him and planted her lips softly and tentatively on his forehead. "I understand."

Cautiously, Fenris felt around in the pouch, his fingers latching on sheets of vellum, all folded up neatly in a small pile. He pulled them out, noticing how delicate and old they were.

"Where were these?"

Astoria smiled. "Your mother gave me a box once, with this in it. She told me to bury it and if the day ever came, that I could give the items away."

"Why not Varania?"

Astoria smiled mirthlessly. "I'm not sure. I'm older than she is?"

Fenris didn't have a better reason for her, but he didn't believe that one.

"Truthfully, you were her favorite. I think she felt closer to you through me than with Varania. You understood her better. She loved your sister, of course, more than life itself. But you... you were her first-born, her 'little moon.'"

Fenris swallowed, suddenly feeling unsteady. Astoria continued regardless.

"Varania knew it too, and you always tried to keep it from being obvious. You always felt so guilty about it."

Fenris suddenly felt pity for his sister, but he quickly suppressed it and scowled at Astoria, half-angry with himself. "Stop. I don't want to hear about her."

Astoria nodded, watching him carefully.

Fenris turned back to the vellum in his hands, unfolding the top piece carefully because it seemed like it would fall apart if he wasn't gentle enough. Then he paused and dug out the wedding ring from the pouch, examining it in his palm.

It was a small silver ring with a deep green stone in the center, with silver veins running through it. Fenris narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized it.

"Why didn't she give this to you?"

Astoria chuckled. "She did, after we were freed, but I wouldn't take it. Doesn't fit me anyway."

"My mother had small fingers," he noted with a small smirk. Astoria hummed a sound in her throat, surprised at the change in his mood.

"You used to tease her for it. She was so little. You were taller than her by the time you were fourteen, I think."

Fenris felt his lips twitching towards a smile. "This doesn't bring back any memories."

"You didn't see it much. She kept it hidden."

He nodded in understanding and put the ring back in the pouch before beginning to read the first sheet of vellum. The words were difficult to make out from age, and written in a mix of elvish and common, so Fenris didn't understand everything. But what he did understand was -

My love,

Jarlathal has told me that he's going off to join the Dalish, and I think you should take the children and go with him. I would miss you terribly, my dear, but it would be for the best. There's very little hope of me ever getting out of here -, and though I live for the rare times I can see you, I would rather you be safe with the Dalish than here and poor with our children.

Varania's connection with the Fade is stronger every time that I see you. The Dalish can teach her. The Dalish are good for people like her and I.

I was reminded of our little boy the other day – I was taking care of the magister's mabaris, and I remembered the time that Leto rode one of them around like a horse, kicking it in the ribs to make it run faster. The poor creature.

I'm betting that he's going to be a warrior still, despite what you think.

I asked someone to make me a doll for Varania, but it's going to take some time for me to - up what I need for it.

I miss you so much, my love. Please tell me that you'll go with Jarlathal, I would like to not worry about you. Give the children my love.

With love always,

Verran

Fenris spent a long time staring at the letter. He shivered at Astoria's fingers trailing up his arm, passing over his markings gently.

"Was... he a mage?"

Astoria nodded slowly. "A damn good one. Not just in skill. He would rather give up freedom, even in a place where his abilities would have taken him far, than have your family live in squalor."

"My bitch sister should have learned from him."

Astoria's fingers curled around to the inside of his arm softly. He ignored the touch feeling himself sobering by the second. Astoria leaned closer to him to get a better look at the letter.

"Oh, there," she pointed to the line about him being a warrior, "apparently your mother thought you would be a rogue. Because you were so fast and quiet, and devilish. But your father called it – he knew you'd be a warrior because you broke your mother's rib when she was still pregnant with you."

Fenris searched her face, wondering if she would tell him more, if she knew any more. This was so personal, such intimate information that Fenris didn't think he could read another that night.

"I want to spar," he said huskily, putting the letter back in the pouch and getting to his feet. Astoria smiled and nodded.

They went to the clearing near the forest, not far from where his mother's grave was because the grass was soft there. It was officially dark out, but the moon was bright.

When emotions or tensions got too high for Fenris, he'd always spar with her. Even if it was the middle of the day, she was always willing to do it with him. In doing so, he was able to channel his anxiety and frustrations, meanwhile getting closer to Astoria.

They faced each other in the dark. Fenris shifted his weight between his feet with his knees bent as he shut his eyes briefly and took a deep breath through his nose.

He tested the ground beneath his bare feet, the rebound of the dewy and spongy grass. He could smell the wine he had drank all day along with the unmistakable scent of farm; of crops and earth. The vague, feminine scent of Astoria wafted towards him as a feather-light breeze blew over the Tevinter countryside.

Fenris opened his eyes to see Astoria regarding him curiously. In the distance he heard a pack of coyotes, yipping as they hunted in the forest. An owl hooted, jovial and muted chatter from the house at the base of the farm, by the road.

He sent her a devilish smirk, rolling his shoulders. He was ready.

Astoria charged him and Fenris ducked into it. It wasn't his usual method, but he wanted to change things up. Normally he would sidestep and flank his opponent, or rather phase through them, but he wasn't about to use his markings against Astoria. As much as he jumped to conclusions about her – in uncertain times he thought she was betraying him, he had been wrong several times. Astoria had never meant him any harm.

He couldn't help but fall into his own personal fantasy in what he thought were moments of weakness. In his fantasy, he was in the happily ever after stage of his life, where he didn't have to worry about slavers, magisters, or betrayal by Astoria. The latter was at the forefront of his mind. He felt like the past four and a half months had been too good to be true. He was waiting for it all to come crashing down, and he knew he would be crushed. Just like he had been crushed for those brief moments before crossing the river into Hasmal, or when Astoria came crashing through the forest with slavers at her back. His mind had gone to dark places, and the thought of killing her to maintain his own freedom and safety made him nauseous.

Fenris didn't want to feel like that again. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to leave her.

He ducked into her charge and threw a toned arm around the front of her waist. He stood and yanked her against him, hearing her gasp out a breath as he threw his other arm around her, pinning her shoulders against his chest.

Astoria wrapped one leg behind her and essentially tried to hit him behind his knee. Fenris lost balance but only for a moment. The floral scent of her hair was intoxicating to him, he found himself frustrated because of it.

A flurry of movements and long but exciting minutes later, Astoria was straddling him, her hands pushing down on his shoulders where he lay. They were both breathless and gasping hard.

Fenris chuckled at the proud grin on Astoria's face, her eyes wide, chest heaving. Fenris felt that fire burning in him, desire flaring to life. Feelings he had kept suppressed were bursting, threatening to spill out from him.

He grabbed her wrists, and was strong enough to put them both on the grass to his right. He held both of her wrists with one hand and with the other, shoved her shoulder, simultaneously rolling his weight. In a moment Astoria was pinned to the ground with her wrists above her head. Fenris was straddling her, a wicked smirk on his face.

He panted, out of breath, as Astoria struggled beneath him. He stretched her arms further above her head and shifted his legs so that his feet touched together under him and his shins pinned her thighs to the ground.

Astoria met Fenris' gaze and his breath caught in his throat. His eyes had adjusted to the moonlight, and he could see that she was staring at him with her mouth parted slightly. Her chest heaved breathlessly, tantalizingly.

There was a moment of them catching their breath, and as it passed, Fenris growled.

He lowered himself quickly, crashing his mouth against hers in a thoughtless, bold act. She hesitated for a moment. Fenris felt her fingers unfurl as he was still grasping her wrists tightly. He let go of them one at a time and let up the pressure on her legs. He dropped his elbows on the grass on either side of her head and felt her hands fly to his shoulders, fingers pressing into the black of his sleeveless tunic.

He kissed her deeply, almost furiously. She met him with a soft eagerness, not pushing him. Their tongues met before he bit her bottom lip. A soft moan escaped her and Fenris shuddered at the sound. He shifted some of his weight onto a knee and tangled his hands in her hair, dragging her head closer to his as if no matter how deeply he kissed her, it wasn't enough.

"Mm, F... Fen... Fenris..."

He left her mouth and went to her neck, leaving bruising kisses on the soft skin. There was the slightest undertone of salt from their sparring.

"Ah, shit, Fenris-"

"Astoria," he growled, his voice low and gruff. "You can't betray me."

She went still, her palms flattening over his tunic. "I... I wouldn't."

Fenris shook his head against her, alarmingly aware of the smell of her hair and how it affected him. "I mean it," he bit out while softening his fists in her hair, "if you lead me into any trap, if you turn on me..."

"Fenris," she interrupted, moving her head away to look at him in the moonlight, "the only thing I could say to you to reassure you would be... far too personal for you to hear."

"Tell me," he commanded against her throat. Every time she moved her head away to look at him, he buried his face closer to her, refusing to meet her gaze.

She sighed and dropped her arms, as if no longer interested. "Fenris. You are the love of my life, you are my husband. I went halfway across Thedas to find you, I went to you even though Varric told me - warned me - how you would react. Not everyone means to hurt you. I will give you anything you want and I ask for nothing in return. I just wish you would trust me."

They were silent for a moment, Fenris with his breathing ragged on her neck, his fingers splayed in her hair, much of his body weighing her down. He shut his eyes, shame flaring to life in him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I can't just... enjoy something."

Astoria seemed to relax slightly, moving one hand to the back of his neck. He went still and felt himself scowling. He had been touched on the neck plenty of times before, but never like this. Her fingers were gentle, careful as she trailed her fingers along the skin.

Fenris pulled away from the cook of her neck, searching her face questioningly.

"I..." he began, his voice sounding stretched, "I remembered our wedding."

Her eyes widened in shock, her gaze straining on his own. "You... what? How?"

Fenris took a breath. "The crown you wore, the flowers. When I held it, I remembered."

Astoria put her palm flat against his neck, as if trying to read his pulse. Fenris stared at her for a long time, but she didn't give anything away in her expression. "And how do you feel about it?"

He stroked her hair with one of his hands, longing to be closer but not knowing how. It shamed him, thinking that he was so broken as a man to not even be able to court someone. It shamed him to be so wary of tenderness and yet want it so badly.

"I think it was beautiful," he admitted, keeping his voice almost vacant of emotion purposely.

Astoria grinned widely, speechless. Fenris felt the corners of his lips tugging in a small smile. He liked her grin – such a rare thing.

"It was, wasn't it? Wait... how much did you remember?" She asked, a hint of coyness in her voice. Fenris dropped his head into the crook of her neck again, wondering if the romantic mood was too gone for him to kiss her.

"Just before I asked you if you were sure you wanted to go through with it... to when we got back to the house, er, the hovel."

Astoria giggled as if his breath on her neck tickled her. He allowed himself the pleasure of brushing his lips against her skin softly, before parting his lips and sucking for a brief moment. She went still, drawing in a breath.

Fenris nipped at her neck and she finally seemed to give. Her hands went to his shoulders again and daringly wrapped a leg around one of his. He pressed his lips roughly against the hollow of her throat, coaxing another soft moan out of her, before claiming her mouth once again.

The way she responded this time surprised him. She pulled him to her by his shoulders, answering his kiss with her own of equal fervor and desire. Fenris' head swam, part of him screaming at himself to stop and another part of him driven with determination and want for something he had denied himself for so long.

He tangled his hands in her hair, his bare arms uncomfortable against the ground as he bit and kissed her lips. His weight pinned her to the ground, but she didn't complain. Her hands trailed down from his shoulders to his arms on either side of her head, before traveling back up and then down his back. She hooked a finger around his belt and Fenris wavered. Something inside him snapped.

"Venhedis," he growled against her lips, forcing himself to regain control over himself. He couldn't do this now, he knew it.

Astoria made a moan of protest as he reluctantly rolled off her, untangling his hands from her hair. "What's wrong?" She asked, her voice sounding stretched.

Fenris got up, fearing that if he continued laying down beside her that he'd do much more than kiss. He adjusted himself so that he could walk comfortably and in a moment, Astoria was beside him, her lips bruised and swollen with the ferocity in which he kissed her.

"Fenris?"

His jade eyes shot to hers briefly and he frowned in the moonlight. He opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself. Astoria stepped to stand in front of him.

"Is it something I did? I'm sorry-"

"No." He answered honestly, his voice icy.

Astoria slowly put one hand on the back of his neck and stood up on her toes. Fenris went still, ready to push her away, but he didn't.

She slowly went to his neck, her breath hot against his skin. She touched her lips gently to his throat, just below his jaw near his ear, in the hollow.

Fenris gasped slightly, the touch thrilling and... familiar?

She parted her lips and pressed a kiss against his skin.

He had his arms tight around Astoria, shivering at the kiss on his throat. "Mmm," he said, his voice young and playful but still deep, "you found it."

She chuckled, shaking slightly in his arms. The hallway was dark and unlit – perfect. Leto had planned this perfectly.

She was so little in his arms, not yet fully developed into the beautiful woman she would be. She hadn't been eating well. He had given her portions of his own food, aware that there were some humans in her quarters that probably threatened her over her portions, making her give them up.

"Astoria," Leto said with an involuntary grin as she kissed him again in that spot, "you can tell me if someone isn't being fair to you."

"What do you mean?" She asked, a hand crawling up under his tunic to his chest.

"I don't think you're eating. Who's taking your food?"

Astoria nibbled at his neck and his knees nearly buckled. It was a struggle to stay on his feet.

"No one."

Leto pressed his cheek to the top of her hair and shut his eyes as she splayed her fingers over his side, across his ribs.

"I know when you're lying, mellita."

"I don't know what that means."

"What?"

Astoria sighed heavily, leaning against him, making him burn with desire. "I don't know what that word means."

"Don't change the subject. Who's taking your food?"

"No one, Leto."

"Don't tell me, then." He frowned, tightening his grip on her and planting a kiss on her hair. "But you know that I would protect you, right? I would do anything to keep you safe... and healthy." He added with a chuckle.

"I know."

Fenris stepped back unsteadily, his eyes darkening before he clasped his hands against her shoulders, dragging her to him. He told her about the memory quickly, watching her reaction. She nodded solemnly, her lips swollen and cheeks flushed with the passion of the past several minutes.

"Why did you lie to me?"

Astoria furrowed her brow. "If you stepped in, you would have gotten hurt – you would have been punished somehow. Besides, not long after I ended up moving in with your family."

Fenris felt ashamed, again, his anger dissolving quickly. Of course she had been only protecting him. When had she ever done anything else? He hated how he overreacted all the time.

He moved his hands from her shoulders to her neck, feeling her pulse underneath his palm. Fenris sighed and looked at her sadly.

"I am unfair to you."

Astoria blinked at him, confused and then a small, half-smile appeared on her face. "You've been through a lot, Fenris, I can't fault you for being defensive."

He was shocked at her kindness, her level of understanding. "You are too permissive of me."

She rolled her eyes, a smile still on her face. "You wouldn't still be here if I wasn't."

"I wouldn't." He admitted. "But you should be wary of me, Astoria. I'm not a good man."

"You are."

"I've killed people I've trusted."

Astoria sighed. "You're telling me to stay away? You kissed me, did you not?"

"It is difficult not to."

Even in the moonlight, he knew she was blushing furiously. He felt her pulse quicken in her neck and she averted her gaze.

"Fenris... I ache for you, with everything I have. I can hardly... you cannot tease me like this. Do not kiss me like that and then tell me to be careful. I'm past that. I cannot be careful anymore."

Fenris wasn't sure he was hearing her correctly. He furrowed his brow, cleared his throat nervously and splayed his fingers out on her neck, both endeared and ashamed. He hadn't thought of how tormented his presence may have made her. So consumed with himself, he hadn't given her feelings much consideration.

He opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't. There was no way to respond.

"I think we're both asking for the same thing," Astoria said softly. "We are both asking for the other to be genuine, aren't we?"

He swallowed and nodded. It wasn't exactly the same thing to him, but he didn't want to argue against her honesty. He loved how honest she was, it was such a rare thing. People normally walked on eggshells around him, avoided him, or were just outright cruel to him.

But she was far from those things. And he was appreciative.

"I am... trying, Astoria."

She frowned and gave him a small nod after a moment.

"I know what I am, Astoria. I know how I act."

Astoria forced a smile and stepped closer to him. He kept his hands on her neck, feather-light, rubbing his thumbs up and down the skin, running over the new bruises that his mouth had left. She put her own hands on his chest and looked up at him with a sad smile.

"Fenris... there is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing wrong with the way you act. You have been through so much. But you are a good man, and on that point I will never waver."

He felt light, weightless. His stomach seemed to flutter.

He shut his eyes and bowed his head. He opened his mouth but Astoria stopped him.

"No, Fenris, don't argue with it. Just take a compliment. Please."

He let out a strangled chuckle and opened his eyes, a small and lazy smirk on his face. "If that is what you want."

She smiled genuinely. "It is."

Fenris' smirk leveled out and he pressed his lips into a hard line, trying to to keep from kissing her. He wanted to, wanted to further indulge in that pleasure, a pleasure he had never really allowed himself to have.

He had been kissed before, but they were never companionable or friendly kisses. Under Danarius' control, he had done things he wasn't proud of, things he didn't want to do, and some things he actually hadn't minded. Those memories shamed him more than anything, because looking back on them he hated them. But during those times, he hadn't known any better. There were some things he hadn't ever planned on telling anyone, Astoria included.

But none of that mattered to him at the moment. Fenris was well aware of how much he wanted her, some times more than others. It was a desire that he always felt, but usually paid no mind to.

Fenris moved one hand, brushing his knuckles along her neck. "I've marked you... again. I'm sorry."

She laughed. "Fenris."

"Hmm?"

She went up on her toes and planted a lazy kiss on his lips. "Do you know how you got that scar?"

Her index finger tapped his chin, on the left vein of his lyrium, a hair above its widest point. It was hardly noticeable at all. He knew this scar, but he had had it as long as he could remember.

"You know the answer to that."

She nodded. "I do. Well... it was stupid. I'm glad you can't remember it."

"What did you do?" He asked with his brow furrowed seriously.

She smiled and took a closer step towards him, wrapping her arms tentatively around him, just under his arms, her hands meeting in the center of his spine. Fenris arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, Fenris, it's embarrassing."

"By all means, continue."

She rolled her eyes but grinned. "It was your fault, really. You got me drunk – but you were a perfect gentleman, as always, never tried anything when we drank. Anyway, I dropped the wine bottle. It smashed all over the ground. I reached down, grabbed the neck and apparently you were crouching beside me, helping me pick up the glass. Well, I got up to get a rag, still holding the neck, and you were leaning across to pick up a piece. The glass cut right into your chin, you bled forever. I felt so awful, but you had just laughed."

Fenris frowned, again reminded of the awful memory he had from when he was younger. She had countless white scars on her back and he only had one small one on his chin, half covered up by his markings. He pulled his hands slowly away from her neck and nodded to the barn. "Let's go inside. Tomorrow we're going to Minrathous."

"I still have one more bottle of wine."

Very long chapter - sorry if you were planning on a shorter one. BTW, I get so embarrassed writing the "steamy bits" - but I hope it came out sounding natural.