By the way, did you know Andraste is in fact a Celtic goddess? A goddess of war no less, the goddess of Slaughter, related to the Roman goddess Victoria (what's in a name) who was also known for her preference of violence. I laughed my guts out when I stumbled about that intriguing morsel of information. Peace and forgiveness? Screw that! More likely to tear you apart that one! What a hoot! Well, I thought so.

Anyway, as always, enjoy!

Part 17

It was already early in the afternoon when Hawke and Fenris finally woke up after their amorous exertions. All of them. Daylight was streaming through the curtains and tickled Hawke's nose. She stifled a yawn and turned with a soft grunt. She exhaled with a feeling of deep satisfaction. 'How many times do you reckon we have made love over the past, er, what is it? What day is it anyway?' she mumbled sleepily while she settled herself in her lover's arms, not willing to get up yet though she knew it would be inevitable within short time. One way or another.

Fenris chortled throatily while he slowly dragged his fingers through her hair, and at the same time involuntarily sent sparkling shivers down her spine. With tender fingers he straightened out the worst of the tangles. 'Funny you put it that way. I lost count of both days and how many times to be honest.'

She managed to get passed the shivers and instead heaved her head and looked at him with a mischievous smile. 'So you have been counting!'

'I tried to, but somewhere along the track I missed a few occasions.' He caught her twinkle and got alert. 'What? Did you really want me to keep a tally?'

Marian giggled and kissed the smooth skin of his chest. 'No, of course not, it's not some kind of contest! I was just wondering.' She sighed contented. 'I know it sounds soppy but I've never been so happy in my whole life.'

Fenris bend over her and inhaled her smell. He felt a tingle starting in his nostrils, travelling down his throat and spreading from there through his body to nestle somewhere in his abdomen. 'Then,' he had to swallow, 'at the risk of sounding soppy as well, I have to confess neither have I.'

'Hmm,' she murmured contemplatively, 'taking into consideration you've been whacked around the ears for a considerable amount of times of late, not to mention you had to handle a lot of frolicking and last but not least the demolishing of your mansion, I must say I'm impressed. If not flattered.'

'Are you now,' said Fenris. He nuzzled her neck. 'And who says that wonderful state of mind is your doing?'

'You horrible elf!' started Hawke indignantly but he silenced her by kissing her passionately.

They got interrupted by an impatient woof sounding from the other side of the bedroom door. 'Ah,' Marian concluded, 'that's Bodahn's way of telling breakfast is already long gone and lunch is almost overdue.' Reluctantly she sat up. 'Better send the dog than being yelled at yourself. Clever dwarf.' She turned to Fenris with an apologetic smile. 'I'm afraid we can no longer postpone the start of everyday life.'

'Whatever that means,' Fenris deadpanned, 'I wouldn't be surprised if we ended up being pirates, say around midnight. With tattoos to prove it. Probably pictures of breasts.' He tilted his head and added, 'I wonder how that would look on you.'

Marian's merry laughter drowned in a new string of agitated barking and, if fearing it wouldn't be enough, Tempest reinforced his demand by jumping against the door. The wood bulged. 'Alright, alright!' his mistress cried out, 'calm down you bloody rascal! We'll be down in a sec!'

While they were getting dressed Marian caught Fenris absentmindedly staring at the strongbox she had placed on the writing desk in the bedroom.

'What are you going to do with it?' she asked hesitantly. 'I mean with the treasure we found inside.'

Fenris shrugged. 'I don't know if I should do something with it,' he replied, 'or whether I want to.' He turned his head away. 'It's blood money,' he stated grimly.

'Blood money?' Marian frowned. 'No! You mustn't reason like that! You better consider it, well, some kind of compensation. Even smart-money if you will.'

'For whom?'

'For the boy that never asked for what happened to him. For the boy whose life was taken away, in the most gruesome and cruel way thinkable. The boy named Leto.'

He closed his eyes and when he opened them again she saw they were moist. He took her hand and squeezed softly. 'I will think about it,' he promised.

Isabela stood next to Varric, watching the work in progress, or better ogling the men who were labouring themselves into a sweat under the burning sun. Fenris's place was buzzing like a beehive with scores of people hacking and braking and dragging rubble out of the way. One of the refugees from Darktown, who had been a master-mason in his former life, had taken the lead and Varric had happily let him. He had grown tired and above all thirsty from shouting orders. Right now he stood with a satisfied expression on his face overlooking the scene with a pint of ale in his hand.

At regular intervals the orphans from the Chantry, under the leadership of an ever increasing grumpier looking Sebastian, delivered fresh supplies of food and drinks; at first just cool water and lemonade but fairly soon Varric had asked for, or rather demanded, a decent amount of good ale. 'A man cannot just work by water,' he had stated firmly.

'Where's Daisy?' the dwarf informed at the very moment.

'I sent her to Sundermount, like you asked,' Isabela answered.

'On her own? You think that's wise in the state she's in?'

Isabela smiled devilishly. 'Which state are you referring at? The mother of all hangovers or the perpetual arousal that still beats the sensation of hammers in her head? I'll go for both.'

Varric glared fiercely at the pirate queen but the first words of his reply got lost in an ungodly din. The freshly appointed overseer had decided on where the props had to be placed and now a few of his subordinates got busy with large heavy sledgehammers to batter away what was left of the wall that once separated the hallway and the parlour. The dwarf took a gulp of air and tried anew. Louder by now. 'I'm sure you're exaggerating,' he shouted, 'nevertheless you shouldn't have let her go alone.'

'As a matter of fact I didn't,' yelled Isabela back, grinning, 'that yummy neighbour of hers went with her.'

'Really?' Varric looked surprised. 'Sweet blooming mutual love. Who had thought.'

Isabela shrugged nonchalantly. 'Or somewhat less sweet but smouldering lust. On the other hand I never can tell the difference; I don't excel in love as you know.'

Varric shook his head. 'And I still highly doubt that,' he mumbled but he made certain the pirate didn't hear him which wasn't that difficult with all the racket around. 'Hey, Choirboy!' he bellowed loudly. With a deafening rumble the remains of the wall came crashing down and the noise level descended to relative quiet.

Sebastian turned with a snarl. 'What?' he spat irritably; all his Andrastean cordiality had long ago drowned in an ocean of anger and despair and overall frustration.

The dwarf flashed him a bright smile while he raised his empty mug. 'Think you can find more where this came from?'

'Why don't you go and see for yourself,' the Chantry Brother growled spitefully, 'I'm not your errand boy and neither your servant.' With that he stomped off in the direction of the Chantry; even his broad back radiated righteous rage.

'Ah well,' Varric sighed with regret, 'I suppose it had to end at some time. Still, it was nice while it lasted.' He brightened up. 'I guess it's time for my role in the continuing drama.' He clapped Isabela on the lower back. 'I'm off to the Keep. See you tonight at the Hanged Man. Try to keep your greedy hands to yourself in the meantime and don't forget to lure Hawke and Fenris to my place tonight. Pay them a visit and think of something innocently clever to say.'

As it turned out Isabela didn't need to bother with visiting the Amell Estate because Hawke and Fenris showed up not minutes after Varric had taken his leave. 'I had pictured this scene completely different,' Hawke remarked while she viewed the activities, 'like in you doing all the hard work and we watching with a bottle of wine close at hand.'

Imperturbably Isabela waved Hawke's snarky comment away. 'You have people who do all the work and people who have to, er, supervise.' Fenris cocked a dark eyebrow and Marian started to laugh sarcastically so Isabella thought it wiser to change the subject. 'Are you coming to the Hanged Man tonight? To play Wicked Grace?'

'Perhaps? Why?' Hawke asked guardedly.

'You haven't attended the Wicked Grace-evenings for quite a while and, let's face it, that's what started all this mess,' Isabela explained straight-faced.

Hawke stared incredulously at her. 'Of course!' she exclaimed dramatically, 'that's what it started! How did I fail to grasp such a plain fact!'

Vehemently Isabela fluttered her hands in an attempt to hush up the other woman. 'All right all right, I admit that placing bets and doing some snooping around have also generously contributed to all the excitement. But that never would have started if you two hadn't locked yourself in, er, (another wave, in the direction of the house this time) there.'

Marian snorted sardonically but Fenris interrupted her before she could utter another word and begin an ordinary slanging match, or worse. And though he didn't doubt there were plenty of men around who'd enjoy a catfight, he wasn't one of them, especially because he knew how sharp the teeth and claws of the cats concerned were. He didn't wish to witness that particular clash. He needed a diversion and though it went against all his convictions and on the other side went with all his fears he made his firm decision. 'Since we're here anyway I may as well lend a hand,' he thus said coolly, 'after all it's my mansion.'

'Yes but it's not your fault it lies in ruins,' Hawke argued heatedly.

'That may be but it's still my mansion,' Fenris repeated calmly.

'Have you gone out of your mind?!' Isabela cried out vigorously, 'they are getting paid, you're not!'

'It is still my mansion,' Fenris reiterated with maddening stubbornness. He took a deep breath before he made his final decision. His mouth twitched for a heartbeat but he dismissed the eerie sensation. He didn't want to feel weak anymore. He didn't have to. After all she had given him not only worth but strength as well. With sudden determination and without further reasoning he stripped off his shirt and walked with a resolute gait to the crowd of workmen. He picked up a piece of rubble an within no time was one of them, one of those workmen. He revelled in it. And he didn't have to turn his head to know he had got the reaction and armistice he had aimed for. Both women gaped at him, Marian out of sheer bafflement and unbelief he had taken off his garment in public just like that, and melted with them apparently not worried about any reactions whatsoever and Isabela with hot unrefined admiration, if not a sudden hunger attack.

'Wow. Are those going all the way-'

'Yes,' Hawke ruminated dreamily and then shot to attention. 'Stop drooling. He's mine.'

'Hmm,' Isabela murmured distantly.

But the fire was out of the air.

'Be prepared for anything,' Hawke warned while she and Fenris entered the Hanged Man later that day. Fenris looked askance at her and lifted a corner of his mouth to give her a crooked smile.

'Usually I'm prepared for everything,' he said, 'although I must confess a couple of events have occurred lately I couldn't have dreamed would ever happen in the real world. But I told you before I wouldn't be astonished if we're going to end up being pirates so everything between that and peacefully going home won't render me speechless. Nevertheless you won't catch me saying nothing will surprise me anymore.'

'Just be on your guard and keep your eyes open.'

They entered Varric's suite and were greeted by Isabela, Aveline, Anders and Sebastian and the dwarf himself, who all five were already gathered around the table. And were innocently chattering, Marian noticed. And she noticed something else. 'Where's Merrill?' she asked. Her already honed suspicion got sharper.

'At home,' Isabela explained, 'poor Kitten is having difficulties with digesting the copious amounts of rum she has been imbibing the other day. I'll check on her later. Again.'

'Do sit down,' Varric said jovially, gesturing at some empty seats, 'and have a drink. Wine?'

'As long as you haven't been fiddling with the bottle,' Marian couldn't help sneering.

With a hurt expression Varric laid a hand on his flourishing chest hair. 'Madam! So distrustful!'

'And with good reasons too,' Hawke grumbled sullenly. She wasn't willing to yield that easily.

Varric poured two glasses and took the first sip himself. 'There. Satisfied now? No poison, no foul tasting additives and absolutely no presence of certain herbs.' (Anders groaned involuntarily and neither Hawke nor Fenris could suppress a small grin.) Varric swivelled his eyes between the lovey-dovey couple and the grudging mage and let a stern look linger on the latter. The mage rolled his eyes but with a submitting sigh let the dwarf know he could take the lead. With a slightly strained smile Varric turned back to his goal. 'Come on. Let's bury the hatchet and play cards. It's been too long.' He shuffled the deck and dealt. After a few rounds and some harmless chitchat about the restoration of Fenris's mansion Marian finally felt her tension wane and allowed herself to loosen up.

And that was exactly the moment Varric chose to launch the attack.

'Oh and by the way, Hawke, Fenris,' he babbled casually while he had his eye fixed on the cards in his hand, 'that lovely marriage contract of yours, you know the one with the droll scribble in the margin? Turns out it's completely valid.' Foreboding silence followed in which the significance of his words sounded like the echoes of heavy metal slabs falling on granite. Everyone present held their breath.

Marian dropped her cards and simultaneously Fenris dropped his glass that bounced from the table and ended with a dull crash on the wooden floorboards. Hawke stiffened. She stared wide-eyed at the dwarf for a few moments but then relaxed. 'Oh no,' she smirked, wagging her finger, 'oh no, Varric. This one is too easy, you're just fucking with us. Nice try but no way I will fall for it.' She heaved a sigh of relief and tutted disappointedly. 'I thought you were better than this.'

At first Varric just raised his brow, outwardly not reacting to her demeaning reaction. He just folded his arms and leant leisurely into the back of his chair. He looked placidly at her and as a true lawyer began to sum up the facts to build his case. 'As I recall well, the document bears the seal of the Viscount, as well as both your signatures and that of a witness.'

'So?'

'So actually that suffices.'

Hawke started to feel a tad nervous under the dwarf's unruffled expression and that nervousness grew when she caught that special glimpse of triumph in his eyes that only appeared when he played a trump cart everyone had overlooked and no-one had seen coming. And speaking of trump carts, the whole game was all but abandoned. Everyone had laid down their carts and followed the other unfolding play. 'Don't talk rubbish! I forged the signature of the Viscount myself!' Marian cried out in dismay, 'so how can you state the contract is valid?!'

A broad smile spread on Varric's face. 'As it happens you don't need the signature of the Viscount, more or less in the same way you don't need the blessing of the Grand Cleric to be legally wed. All it takes is the seal and the three signatures from the bride, the groom and a witness, and boom, you're married. Easy as pie.' With a smug grin he added, 'Something wrong, elf? You look like you've been slapped in the face with a dead fish. Or a living one for that matter.'

Fenris didn't answer but his hand automatically reached for the bottle of wine sitting on the table. He took a deep pull straight out of said bottle since his glass lay in splinters on the floor.

Marian glared daggers at the dwarf. Very sharp ones. 'I don't believe you,' she hissed viciously.

'That's what I figured,' Varric nodded, insufferably comprehending, 'so I took the liberty to come up with solid proof. Aveline, if you'd be so kind..?' The Guard-Captain brought out a thick and impressive looking tome she had kept hidden in a satchel sitting on the floor next to her chair and handed it over to the dwarf. Hawke's heart sank when she recognized the title. 'As you can see,' Varric went on, 'this is "The Complete People's Laws of Kirkwall". I believe you have a copy yourself lying about somewhere in your library.' With a heavy thud he tossed the volume on the table and opened it. 'Let's see,' he mumbled while he leaved through the pages, 'ah. Here we have it. I take it you want to read it for yourselves..?'

Marian snatched the heavy book from under his hands and started reading; with every word her panic rose. The dwarf, for once, hadn't been lying. It was all there, every statement he had claimed to be true turned indeed out to be true. She looked up, at first not at Varric but at Aveline. 'Was this your idea?' she asked hoarsely, feeling utterly betrayed by her oldest friend, 'did you whisper this into his ear?'

But the Guard-Captain denied her accusation. 'Not at all. Apparently Varric knows the laws of this city far better than you do. Then again, he has lived here much longer. He just asked me to bring the book.'

'As if he got married at a daily basis,' Hawke scoffed. She realised Fenris hadn't reacted yet, at least not with words and her heart sank some more. 'I'm so sorry,' she whispered, 'I didn't know, I really didn't know. Please don't think I tried to frame you.' She didn't dare looking at him, afraid of what she might find. To her absolute confusion and bewilderment the elf started to chuckle softly.

'I should have known. This fits so perfectly with everything that has happened up till now. I must have been blind not to see this coming.' The soft chuckle rapidly developed into wholehearted laughter.

'But you said you didn't want to get married,' Marian spluttered, not knowing how to respond or what to think anymore, 'at least not yet.' She felt completely off balance. This was the last way she had expected him to react on this unexpected and rather unsavoury piece of news.

'That's true,' Fenris admitted, wiping the tears from his face, 'and as I remember neither did you. But being thrown into the deep gives you little choice. Or do you want me to ask for a divorce? Undoubtedly that also only requires just a seal and a small collection of signatures.'

'As a matter of fact,' Varric started but was immediately after nudged into silence by Aveline's sharp elbow.

'Of course I don't want a divorce!' Hawke shouted huffily.

'That's a pity,' Anders mumbled. He didn't look all to happy with the situation but he also shut up after Aveline's other elbow had done it's work.

Fenris sobered up a little. 'Well then,' he said, 'I suppose we just have to get used to be husband and wife, don't we? After all I already carried you over the threshold and sealed the marriage contract with a kiss.' He fervently bit his lip to prevent he'd burst out with laughter once again. In the meantime he realised some anxiety played a role. But he knew with certainty she would break down if he let his demeanour slip. So he carried on. 'Who'd have thought the practise turned out to be reality. Didn't I mention you wouldn't catch me saying nothing wouldn't surprise me anymore? I believe I was wrong. I didn't see this one coming.' He tenderly caressed her cheek. 'You didn't frame me, my love, on the contrary. I was caught already.'

Marian bowed her head and buried her face into her hands. All kinds of memories swirled through her mind. Memories of her sister's fantasies about how the most important day of her life should look like. Bethany had been so elated by just the prospect of an eventual marriage although she knew her chances were meagre since she was a mage. Memories of her mother's ideas about how her only surviving child's marriage would turn all heads and her sighs of desperation when that same daughter obstinately refused even to talk about the subject. She suddenly felt so guilty, she had let them both down. She felt tears prick behind her eyes. 'I never had a proper wedding,' she wailed.

'Perhaps I can be of help in this,' Sebastian piped up, 'I can arrange a ceremony in the Chantry – '

Hawke reacted like she'd got bitten by a snake. She jerked her head up. 'I don't want your blasted Chantry!' she spat at Sebastian who looked taken aback if not afraid. It seemed he made a serious effort to dissolve into the back of his chair under her flaming gaze. Hawke let out a sigh and backpedalled. 'I apologise,' she said meekly, 'I didn't mean it like that but I don't have much faith in the Maker and even less in his bride.' She smiled bleakly at the word and without turning her head added hissing as an aside to Anders, 'and don't you even try to turn this into your advantage.'

Anders closed his already opened mouth. Fenris smiled. He had taken her hand in his. His warm skin comforted her.

'Don't take this personally,' Hawke went on, taking up courage and addressing Sebastian once more, 'but both my father and sister were mages so I hope you can imagine I don't harbour warm feelings for your Chantry.'

The former prince mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath but withheld from further comment.

'It's not about flower arrangements and bubble wine,' Hawke continued in the awkward silence that had fallen after her outburst. She shot Fenris a short smile and he answered by squeezing her hand, 'and not even about a pretty dress and rituals.' She shook her head. 'It's complicated,' she murmured, thinking once more about her sister and mother.

'Perhaps I have some kind of solution,' Varric filled the void that once again threatened to overtake his suite. All eyes turned to him but he was used to that, not to say he got invigorated by it. 'Why not go to the Dalish elves?'

'I beg your pardon?' Fenris flew up before his – ha – wife could react. 'I hope you're not referring to my so-called elven legacy? I have you know I have done enough frolicking for the rest of my life.'

'I thought you liked it,' Marian murmured tired and defeated.

'And I did,' Fenris stated vigorously, dragging her closely into his arms if only to let her feel how much he felt for her, 'but only with you. I mean, do you really want this whole bunch witness -'

She came to existence and put a hand on his mouth to interrupt his vicious statement. He had shaken her back to life and thus the old twinkle was back. 'No! Of course not! That's just for me and you!'

Varric delicately cleared his throat. ´If you will let me finish..? Fine. What I meant is you can have your wedding on Sundermount. Flowers, bubbles, pretty dress and all. And to top it, the Keeper can perform the rituals. And there you have it: a true marriage. Elven style. So, what about it?' He looked expectantly at the both of them. The both of them looked suspiciously back.

'So, that's the reason Merrill isn't here,' Hawke said slowly, 'she's up there, trying to persuade Marethari, isn't she? Hangover!' she mocked mordantly. 'How long have you been scheming this?'

'Since I had to confront that wedding contract,' Varric confessed boldly, 'did you really think I would leave it just like that?!'

Fenris smiled. 'Like I pointed out earlier, I should have known better.'

'Edwina!' Varric called out and not moments later the barmaid showed up, like she had been waiting around the corner, which she had been actually, carrying a tray with a large bottle and seven glasses. 'At least I can offer the bubbles,' Varric beamed. He uncorked the bottle with a loud "pop" and poured the foaming wine into the glasses. They toasted to the happiness of the bride and groom. Even Anders although still somewhat reluctantly.

Marian looked at Fenris and finally reciprocated his warm and happy smile.

'A dive into the deep it is,' she said and he kissed her. Vigorously.

But, of course, this isn't the end to it. And, again of course, there is another turn. Because if not that would be very unsatisfactory. Rest assured I still have something upon my sleeve.

Thank you for reading and even more thanks for following this story thus far. I can't stress enough how much it means to me and how much I appreciate it!