A/N:

Oh my god, guys, I am so sorry for making you wait so long! After I posted the last story, I started working on the second chapter of my other story (Rising Tensions, Flaring Passions, if you haven't checked it out), and then I started working on another short story for this thing, before I decided I'd use this one as an interlude. Plus, I've been so busy rehearsing for my part in Sleeping Beauty, as well as homework and all sorts of other crap... Well, I finally finished this; I confess, I'm a little disappointed with the dialogue at the end of this particular quest, but whatever. I tweaked it a bit, I think, but only slightly. Anyway, please enjoy- next story will be MotA part 2 (sorry I'm making you guys wait, but as they say, you can have too much of a good thing! Well, it's not really possible when it's Felicia Day, but even I can only take so much of her xP).

It is really freaking boring here, right now. I don't recommend hiding from authorities if you're not all set to sit around and let your brain bleed out your ears. Especially when you're with Fenris. He doesn't let us do anything. Sometimes he will let us wander out into the market, if we're really careful, or if we sneak out, but he doesn't want there to be any chance of us getting caught. Me, especially... Anyway, point being, I have nothing to do for the moment- hopefully we'll move on soon- so I decided to write this story; hell, maybe it'll soften Fenris up and he'll let me go out. He's so protective... it's annoying, but it's really adorable at the same time. Buut mostly annoying.

You reading this, hon? Lighten up a bit!

-Hawke

Hawke gritted her teeth, clenching her fists against her hesitancy before she turned to the door and scowled fiercely at it. Three years had passed since she'd made her decision with her mother; her mother's death didn't change that promise. Fenris still hadn't broached the subject, so now it was up to her. Her thoughts whirled in circles of turmoil: What if he laughs at me? What if he tells me he never felt anything? Hell, what if it was all a dream? What if...

She shook her head and thrust the door open, not even bothering to knock.

As usual, the mansion was dark directly upon entering, but what she didn't expect was the voices drifting back to her. What the hell was Aveline doing in Fenris's house?

Well, rather her than Isabela, anyway. At least with Aveline, Hawke didn't have to concern herself that she was trying to get Fenris in bed. She shook her head again to clear her thoughts and started up the stairs, pausing hesitantly to listen in the doorway to the drawing room, where Fenris was arguing with Aveline.

"Are you certain it's her?" Fenris was snarling as she approached.

"An elf matching your description on the ship you named. And alone, as far as I can tell," Aveline answered haughtily, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I need to know if it's a trap!" The elf's fist fell with a loud thump on the desk that rested in the middle of the room.

"I've done all I can, Fenris. Now it's up to you." Aveline, scowling, turned, and looked unsurprised to see Hawke there. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him," she added, exasperated, before she strode out. Hawke heard the mansion door slam and she lifted an eyebrow. She approached Fenris hesitantly.

"Venhedis! Fasta vass!" he swore in Arcanum, dropping his hands on his desk and leaning on them with a dark scowl to rival Aveline's. Hawke sighed inwardly with relief that she didn't have to broach the subject yet, but the relief quickly dissipated to be replaced by concern when she saw how distressed he was.

"Maybe it's just me, but I'd swear you're upset," Hawke said, her tone deceptively casual; she hoped he couldn't hear the anxious fluttering of her heart.

"It's my sister," Fenris spat, and Hawke flinched, eyes widening with surprise. "I didn't tell you, but I followed up on Hadriana's information... and everything she said was true. I had to keep it quiet, but I contacted Varania and sent her coin enough to come meet me. And now she's here." He straightened and met her gaze, his own eyes burning with intensity. Hawke crossed her arms and bit her lip, allowing her eyes to fall so he couldn't see her expression. She couldn't deny the hurt that surged through her when he admitted to not telling her about his sister. Maybe it was somewhat irrational- they weren't, after all, technically a couple- but it was definitely rather painful to know that he'd been hiding something from her.

"Where did you find her?" she asked, stalling a bit so she'd have more time to think.

"I found her in Minrathous... with no small difficulty, either. According to the men I paid, it's as Hadriana said; she's not a slave- she's a tailor, in fact. It was hard to get a letter to her, and she didn't believe me at first... but she finally agreed to come." He ran a hand helplessly through his shock of snow white hair, looking more anxious than Hawke had ever seen him. Sympathy surged through her at his obvious confusion. She ruthlessly shoved her down her own feelings of hurt in order to help him, as he was evidently hoping she would. She uncrossed her arms, allowing her gaze to snap back up to meet his, her expression back under control. Quickly dampened hope flickered across his narrowed green eyes, which almost instantly fell to stare at the ground.

"You think it's a trap," she stated quietly. "You think Danarius knows?"

"The more it seems he doesn't know, the more certain I am he does!" Fenris scowled, gesticulating angrily. Then he turned to face her full on, gazing intently into her eyes. "Come with me, Hawke." He hesitated, his gaze flashing with uncertainty, but his jaw tightening in determination. "I need you there when I meet her." She knew then that this was about more than just wanting protection in case it was a trap.

She didn't bother to think about it.

"Let's go," she answered readily, her icy blue eyes narrowing to an equally determined flint. "Where is she?"

"She's staying at the Hanged Man," Fenris replied, his body relaxing with relief. He stepped out from behind his desk and moved toward the door. He paused by the doorway, glancing back at her. His expression softened, revealing, for the first time in a long time, his true emotions. Anxiety flitted across his gaze, as well as hope that looked as if he was grimly trying to suppress it, manifesting itself in his furrowed brows and his wide, troubled eyes. "Thank you, Hawke. This... means a lot to me." He turned back to the door, so he missed Hawke's own startled expression. She then realized- with amusement- that rarely did she agree to do things for people and then get thanked for it, but Fenris's gratitude meant a lot more to her than she thought it would. She shook her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts for what felt like the millionth time that day, and, promising herself she'd get more sleep when all this blew over, she followed him out the door.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this."

Fenris had never sounded so uncertain to Hawke before. He rarely wavered in his train of thought, and he was always very determined with his rational frame of mind, but the mere prospect of family had him metaphorically trembling in his boots (not that he wore any). Although, she knew he had a tendency to run away when things got too complicated... she reflected sadly that she had first-hand experience of that. Maybe, if she convinced him to face his fears... She shoved this thought aside; today was about Fenris, not her.

The two of them stood poised before the entrance to the Hanged Man, the reddish rays from the setting sun draped over them. Fenris shifted his weight constantly, his gaze darting around like a cornered animal- like a caged wolf- and his hand kept twitching, as if he were about to reach for his sword hilt to fight invisible enemies. They had come straight to the bar without stopping to pick up anybody else, so it was just the two of them; Hawke was feeling more than a little reluctant about them walking into a certain trap alone (although she didn't mention the foreboding feeling that trickled down her spine). If push does indeed come to shove, hopefully Varric and Isabela will be there to help us out. If I let him back out of this now, he'll never be able to face his fears.

"It's too late to back down now," she pointed out, not unkindly.

"But if Danarius is there..." Fenris looked torn; Hawke wasn't sure whether it was between wanting to see his sister and wanting to avoid Danarius, or between wanting to kill Danarius and wanting to protect her. She had a sneaking feeling that the only reason Fenris hadn't gone off to hunt Danarius was because of her. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking.

"Then we'll kill him, and you'll have your revenge," she stated firmly. "Either way, it's a win-win situation."

"How could you possibly be facetious at a time like this?" he complained, but she knew he was stalling. Still, she couldn't help the lopsided grin that sneaked onto her face.

"Ah, don't complain. It makes you feel better too, just admit it." He opened his mouth to retort, but she just rolled her eyes and somewhat audaciously grabbed his hand. Ignoring his protests, she dragged him inside. "Enough stalling."

Not to her surprise, he dropped her hand as soon as they stepped into the building- what did surprise her, though, was how he squeezed it before he let go. And then she didn't have any time to ponder his action.

Instantly they laid eyes on the red-haired elf that sat there, waiting. She looked distinctly uncomfortable, the first sign that set off alarm bells in Hawke's mind. She was pale and dressed in shabby clothes, fit for an elven tailor in Minrathous.

"It really is you," stated the elf rather sadly, rising to her feet as they approached.

"Varania?" Fenris's tone was utterly shocked, and the matching expression on his face was priceless. Then his face fell, and his eyes narrowed in confusion. "I... I remember you," he stated slowly. "We played in our master's courtyard while Mother worked. You called me..."

"Leto," the girl interjected, still looking depressed. "That's your name."

"Fenris..." Hawke cautioned in an undertone, shifting uncomfortably, her gaze darting around, probing the corners of the bar. Nobody else was there but a few drunk men at a table near the doorway and Isabela, who was perched on her usual spot at the bar, watching avidly. Even the bartender was gone. Hawke's eyes narrowed and she reached for her daggers.

"What's wrong? Why are you acting so..." Fenris was watching Varania curiously, looking a little hurt at her indifference.

"Fenris, we should leave!" Hawke snapped suddenly, but it was too late. Movement flickered in the corner of her eye, and she whirled, her daggers seeming to leap into her hands.

She found herself facing a tall, proud man with gray hair and a beard that was cut in such a way as to make Hawke think irrationally of a monkey. He was dressed in the expensive clothes that Hawke imagined would fit a magister well, for that was undeniably what he was; her skin prickled with the telltale feeling that arrived whenever mages were nearby, an unpleasant buzzing on her skin. The man's eyes were a piercing gray color, cold and powerful, and lesser people would have fled or dropped to their knees before him. As it was, even Hawke couldn't keep from quailing slightly as the man towered over her, although he was several yards away. Fenris, however, stood his ground, despite the horror and then fury that darkened his expression. Hawke quickly recovered and glowered ferociously at the man, who just looked amused. He was followed by several other men- mercenaries, probably, and Hawke couldn't contain a quiet groan at their numbers.

"Ah, my little Fenris. Predictable as always," sneered the magister.

"I'm sorry it came to this, Leto," Varania murmured, sounding almost ashamed and still refusing to look at him.

"You led him here," Fenris growled, striding closer to his sister and drawing his longsword just as Hawke snapped, "Shut it, you two-timing little bitch."

"Language, language," Danarius drawled, and she made a rude gesture at him that only made him chuckle. Varania was quailing before Fenris, who looked about ready to kill her. "Now, now, Fenris," Danarius interjected, distracting the elf before he did anything rash. "Don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should." He glided forward to stand beside Varania, and Hawke took a step closer to Fenris, her gaze narrowing.

"I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius," he growled, scowling at the ground. But then his eyes, savagely beautiful in his anger, snapped up to lock with Danarius's amused gaze. "But I won't let you kill me to get them!" Hawke's heart leaped in her chest, proud of his determination despite the delicate situation.

"Oh, how little you know, my pet," the magister chuckled. And then he turned his coldly calculating gray eyes on Hawke. Her icy gaze was narrowed to a flint, her chin lifted defiantly, and she glared right back at him. "And this is your new master, then? The Champion of Kirkwall? Impressive," he sneered.

"Fenris doesn't belong to anyone!" Hawke declared vehemently, despite the cold feeling that trickled down her back like ice water.

"Do I detect a note of jealousy?" laughed Danarius. "It's not surprising, the lad is rather skilled, isn't he?"

"Shut your mouth, Danarius!" Fenris roared, his irate green gaze flashing with a strange light. Fenris's lyrium markings glowed bright blue, brighter than they ever had; simultaneously, a dagger shot past Danarius's head, missing only because he disappeared with a swirl of robes to reappear on the steps, shielded by magic. Hawke and Fenris instantly turned back-to-back to fend off his mercenaries; out of the corner of her eye, Hawke noted Isabela and Varric jumping into the fray to help out.

These mercenaries were better than any Hawke had fought before- lots of money buys the best, she supposed- but still they were no match for a pissed-off Hawke and an even more furious Fenris. She found herself shrieking incoherently at the men, and every few seconds she would turn and hurl a dagger at Danarius, but the magic prevented it from connecting and she couldn't get to him personally. Fenris appeared to be having the same difficulties; he was snarling nonstop in Arcanum as he fought at her side, but neither of them wavered and their attacks flowed together seamlessly, better than they ever had before. The mercenaries were dispatched in a surprisingly small amount of time; once the last one was cut down, Fenris and Hawke hurtled toward the stairs and Danarius, but were instantly intercepted by shades.

"Shit," Hawke hissed as they battled the demons. "Maker-damn blood mages!" Fenris growled his agreement. Their anger and adrenaline was slowly but surely starting to fade, and Hawke was now dreading the moment that Danarius would step into the fray. Fenris, however, never slowed, moving confidently, but she was beginning to see the slight, telltale waver of his sword.

"Come and fight us yourself, you coward!" she yelled at the magister when the battle hit a lull.

"At that, maybe I will!" snickered Danarius, and he disappeared again.

Hawke whirled, trying to figure out where he'd gone, until she heard a chuckle right in her ear. Only reflexes sharpened from years of training saved Hawke at that moment; she didn't even bother to turn, only hurled herself aside just in time to miss a bolt of spirit energy fly by. Unfortunately, she tripped over the bodies of some of the mercenaries, and she found herself sprawled on the ground with her arm somehow trapped under a heavy corpse as Danarius approached her, laughing triumphantly.

She began to despair; there was no way she could get up in time. He leered down at her, lifting his staff-

An inhuman roar of uncontrollable fury rang out, filled with such hatred and raw anger that even Danarius stopped and turned and caused Hawke to jump in surprise. Suddenly Danarius was held in the air, his staff clattering helplessly on the ground and an armored hand curled around his collar.

"You will not touch her!" Fenris's markings glowed fiercely, but even they could not hide the furious expression on his face; his expression burned with a fervor that Hawke had never seen on him before, yet she couldn't flinch away; she could only stare, transfixed with amazement...

Fenris plunged his glowing hand into Danarius's chest, and a moment later the magister slumped over, dead. Fenris let go of the man's collar, and the corpse collapsed to the ground next to the staff. Fenris stared with disgust at his dead master and wiped his bloody hand off on the man's robes.

Hawke could only stare; she felt as if some barrier had fallen across her, rendering her incapable of moving. Standing there, glaring down at the corpse of his enemy, he looked like some kind of gorgeous, deadly war god.

Hawke blinked, realizing she was going into shock, and tried to force herself to get up, but the mercenary's corpse on top of her was too heavy for her to move.

"Hawke?"

His voice was velvet smooth, and filled with infinite concern. She glanced up and stared into his glowing green eyes, still shining with the last remnants of his anger. She saw such compassion in his gaze, though, that tears sprung to her own eyes and she looked away, blinking them away.

He moved the mercenary's body and reached out a hand. She accepted it, gratefully allowing him to pull her gently to her feet.

"Thanks," she mumbled, meeting his gaze somewhat shyly. Suddenly she found herself in his arms, wrapped in his tight embrace that she had longed for for three incredibly long years.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked quietly, his velvet voice rippling with anger.

"Not directly," she answered, just as quietly. "And you?"

"No." They both relaxed then, satisfied that the other was alright.

"Er, Hawke, Broody? You two probably want to deal with this."

Fenris and Hawke stepped apart, Hawke looking somewhat guilty but Fenris harboring no such inhibitions. His eyes sparked again when he saw Varric and Isabela blocking Varania from leaving, glowering at her with crossed arms. He strode over to them, his markings rippling again.

"I had no choice, Leto," Varania insisted pitifully, cowering before him. Hawke approached as well, watching with slightly narrowed eyes; but this wasn't her fight.

"Stop calling me that," Fenris snapped.

"He was going to make me his apprentice. I was going to be his magister," she went on- trying to explain herself, Hawke knew, but Fenris wasn't going to accept her apologies.

"You sold out your own brother to become a magister?" Fenris snorted contemptuously.

"You have no idea what we went through. What I've had to do since Mother died. This was my only chance," Varania said desperately.

"And now you have no chance at all," he snarled, stepping closer as his markings glowed again.

"Please- no! Tell him to stop," Varania begged, glancing at Hawke with wide eyes.

"Fenris, no," Hawke interjected, stepping forward and tugging gently on his arms. He turned and frowned down at her, but his lyrium markings grew dull again.

"Why not? She was ready to see me killed," he pointed out, but the fire was gone from his eyes. He glanced back down at her. "What is she to me but another tool of the magisters?" He only sounded sad and exhausted, now.

"This is your family, Fenris," Hawke replied gently.

"Elf... Fenris. Don't. It won't help. Trust me," Varric supplied, the omnipresent amusement for once gone. Fenris glanced sideways at the dwarf before he nodded slowly and stepped back.

"Get out," he growled, his tone laced with venom. Varania instantly turned and ran to the door. She paused just before she reached the entrance, glancing back. He must have heard her stop, but he didn't turn.

"You said you didn't ask for this, but that's not true," she told him quietly. "You wanted it. You competed for it. When you won, you used the boon to have Mother and I freed." Fenris turned then, his eyebrows drawing together in a tortured expression, his eyes wide with disbelief and shock.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, his tone sounding like a plea for her to stop.

"Freedom was no boon. I look on you now and think you got the better end of the bargain," Varania spat. She turned and strode out. Hawke's jaw dropped.

"Ungrateful little..." she growled, but she fell silent, glancing concernedly at Fenris, who had turned away again. He ran his hand through his hair- his right hand, baring the scarf Hawke had given him- and she saw his shoulders fall in a silent sigh as he turned back to them, misery written across his expression.

"I thought finding my family would give me a sense of belonging." He sighed, his shoulders slumped, his eyes trained on the ground. "Magic has tainted that, too. There is nothing for me to reclaim... I am alone." The breath hitched in Hawke's throat at his tragic expression.

"You still have me, Fenris," she whispered, her voice catching slightly on those simple words. He looked up at her, and his expression totally transformed. The sharp lines around his mouth softened and his eyebrows relaxed, but his eyes still sparkled sadly.

Hawke could now understand what Merrill meant when she said he looked at her with "puppy eyes".

She realized with a start that he was now less than a foot away. Their gazes locked intently. He lifted a hand, brushing it across her cheek, and her icy gaze flickered in surprise. He smiled sadly before he pulled away, turning and pacing away from her again. She cursed herself for not taking advantage of the situation, but quickly cleared her expression when he turned to face her again, the softness gone from his gaze. She managed to avoid touching her cheek, which tingled with warmth where he fingers had brushed it.

"You heard what Varania said," he stated, displaying his forearms and glowering down at them in disgust. "I competed for these. I wanted them." His mouth twisted bitterly; peering closely into his eyes, Hawke could see his horror at what he'd done. "I feel unclean, like this magic is not only etched in my skin, but has also stained my soul," he admitted, wrinkling his nose. He tore his gaze away disgustedly, passing a weary and depressed hand over his features. "Let's go. I need some air."

"The stench finally getting to you?" Isabela snorted, kneeling by one of the corpses and rummaging through the dead man's belongings. Hawke shot her a glare, and the pirate queen only shrugged. Fenris just rolled his eyes and strode to the door. Isabela paused, her hand already deep in the man's pocket, and looked up at Hawke with a questioning expression. Hawke hesitated, before she gestured to Isabela to continue what she was doing and hurried to catch up with Fenris. Isabela nodded with a triumphant grin before she went on ransacking the corpses.

Fenris held the door open for her, and they both stepped outside. Hawke sucked in a breath of "fresh" air, remembering too late that this was Lowtown and there wasn't any clear air this far away from Hightown. She grimaced, tears jumping to her eyes at the stench of unclean people, beer, and the sewers. She wiped them away impatiently; at her side, Fenris couldn't contain a laugh. She glowered at him balefully, though her blurry eyes somewhat ruined the effect.

"Would you like me to walk you home?" she suggested quietly once her vision had cleared. He thought over it for a moment before he shook his head.

"I need to think." He paused for a heartbeat before adding, "Alone."

Hawke nodded, disappointed but unsurprised. She'd guessed as much.

"I'll come visit you later, then?" she offered hopefully. He shrugged, his expression now a total mask from even keen-eyed Hawke.

"If you like," he murmured. Then amusement flashed across his gaze- surprising Hawke, who arched a slight eyebrow- and he added teasingly, "I might still have a bottle of Agreggio, and we can celebrate." She snickered at his mention of Agreggio, and he lifted a confused eyebrow.

"It's nothing," she insisted, waving away his unasked question and recomposing herself. "Go home, Fenris. I'll see you in a couple hours," she added more seriously. He nodded and turned to leave before he paused, glancing back.

"Thanks, Hawke."

For the second time that day, Hawke found herself frowning at the door to Fenris's stolen mansion. This time, at least, she had a legitimate reason. This time, she took the time to rap smartly on the door before she stepped inside, shutting it behind her. Yet again, she was surprised to hear voices up ahead of her. Gee, I always have this sort of timing, don't I? There's always somebody else to deal with...

Aveline and Varric were pestering Fenris to try to find a new place to stay, as he was technically living illegally in the dead magister's mansion, but he stoutly refused. Hawke leaned against the door frame, watching with amusement; she saw his gaze slide over to her and felt her heart stutter when his expression lit up marginally, although it glowed like a beacon to her. Finally, the Guard-Captain and the dwarf rose to leave; Hawke brushed past them, taking her favorite seat in an armchair across from Fenris's usual spot.

"They don't understand," he mused thoughtfully, his gaze trailed on the door as it shut behind the pair.

"Hello to you, too," Hawke muttered under her breath, and he flashed her an amused glance that quickly sobered again.

"I am free. Danarius is dead. Yet... it doesn't feel as it should," he admitted, leaning back in his chair and frowning thoughtfully at the ceiling.

"Seems like you should be dancing for joy," Hawke remarked casually, her expression darkening somewhat but her eyes taking on that teasing glitter that masked her emotions so well. He considered her, his green eyes taking her in solemnly.

"I would have thought so," he agreed, lifting an eyebrow with a half-smirk that disappeared as quickly as it came. "I hoped that, without Danarius dogging my every move, I would be able to live as a free man." The sadness from earlier flickered across his expression again, and Hawke's heart ached. "But how is that?" he went on sadly. "My sister is gone, and I have nothing- not even an enemy." He scowled. Hawke's heart stuttered, then picked up double time.

"You're not reminiscing about the good old days of being hunted, I hope," she said, arching an eyebrow and inwardly hoping her facetiousness wouldn't upset him. Usually it didn't, though, and this time was no different. He laughed.

"Certainly not," he chuckled, before growing serious again. "It's just... difficult to overlook the stain magic has left on my life. If I seem... bitter, it's not without cause." He hesitated. "Perhaps it is finally time to move forward; I just don't know where that leads." He paused again, tilting his head slightly- reminding Hawke yet again of a curious puppy- and sizing her up before he asked softly, "Do you?"

She recognized her chance and blurted out her words almost without thinking, this time with no trace of sarcasm in her tone.

"Wherever it leads, I hope it means we'll stay together," she stated quietly; her icy gaze snapped with silent intensity as they gazed into each other's eyes.

"That is my hope, as well," he answered, to her utter- not unpleasant- shock. A slight smile played on his lips now, his expression somewhat softened. Her heart soared again, then sank with his eyes at his next words. "We... never discussed what happened between us three years ago."

"You didn't want to," she pointed out. He arched an eyebrow, and she added quietly, "Sometimes, Fenris, words don't have to be spoken to get a point across."

"I feel like a fool... I thought it better if you hated me for what I did, but it's not." He hesitated again, looking uncertain, but his eyes glowed with a curious light. He rose to his feet and approached her; Hawke inhaled sharply at his closeness. "That night... I remember your touch as if it was yesterday. I should have asked you forgiveness long ago. I hope you can forgive me now," he whispered, gazing intently into her eyes now. She saw fear mixed with determination flicker across his gaze, and she knew he wasn't going to back out now. But she had to know.

"I need to understand why you left, Fenris."

"I thought about that answer a thousand times. The pain, the memories it brought up... it was too hard," he admitted, but then his gaze flashed again as he said vehemently, "If I could go back, I would stay. Tell you how I felt." Her eyes widened slightly.

"What would you have said?" she whispered in a husky tone, her heart beating fast now.

"Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you," he answered in the same soft tones. His expression gentled, the hard edges disappearing, and in that moment, Hawke could see what she imagined to be his every thought laid bare, flickering across his expression. She reminded herself to breathe as she answered airily, "Oh, I don't know. This might be fun to hold over you a while longer," shocking herself at her sarcasm, but she was rewarded by the glitter in his eyes as he moved even closer. He took her hands and pulled her gently to her feet. Hawke felt a shadow drift away from her heart, and three years of pain and sadness seemed to be swept away with his simple touch.

"If there's a future to be had, I will walk into it gladly at your side," he whispered in her ear, and kissed her.