spirited \ˈspir-ə-təd\ tr. v.: To impart courage, animation, or determination to; inspirit

For as long as she could remember, sparklers had been a fixture of celebrating New Year's. Carver, out of all their family, had cherished them best but he and Hawke had both loved the way they lit up the night after waiting hours for the next year to fall upon them.

As Hawke was walking though the supermarket picking up the necessities her family needed for the week, she stopped at the little seasonal aisle to admire them. After everything that had happened this year, Carver especially deserved a little normalcy. Hawke hadn't bought one in years, and though it put her over budget, she threw two packs in the cart, more excited than she was willing to admit at the prospect of lighting them with her brother to celebrate the tentative promise of the coming year.

"Mom?"

Hawke knocked tentatively on the door to her mother's room.

New Year's Eve had found their family broken once again. Gamlen was, blessedly, gone for the night and Aveline had invited them over to her house with the rest of Carver's wrestling team and their families for her annual New Year's party.

Carver was putting the finishing touches on his signature guacamole with a care Hawke rarely saw for him. This is an opportunity for him to show that we're normal too, Hawke thought sadly.

She knocked again.

"Mom it's already 9:15 we need to leave soon."

When there was no response Hawke pushed the door open slowly.

Her mother was sitting on her bed, party dress on but hair in a disarray and eyes vacant. Hawke knelt down in front of her mother trying to catch her eye.

"Did you take your medication today?"

Leandra nodded.

Hawke's eyes tightened. Seeing her mother like this… it never got any easier. She made a mental note to take her mother back to the doctor as soon as she could and stood up. Carefully, she fixed Leandra's hair into a neat bun and helped her into her worn shoes. When she was ready Hawke smiled at her in an attempt to see just a glint of recognition, but nothing was there when she looked at her oldest daughter.

"Alright then," Hawke muttered mostly to herself. "Let's get Carver."

Walking around the corner of the hall she ran into Carver fiddling with his present for the team gift exchange. The little red bag it was in had been passed back and forth between the three of them for the last few Christmases and was obviously worn around the edges.

"Hawke do we have any of that crinkly paper stuff?" Anxiety tinged his gruff voice as he looked down at the lone gift card sitting at the bottom of the bag.

"I'm sorry, I don't think so."

Unspoken was that they had spent what little of the money they had put away for holiday spending on electricity a week ago when Gamlen had skipped out on his share of the bill.

Carver's brow furrowed. "Whatever. Let's go."

When they arrived at Aveline's cheery home Hawke parked far enough away where her car would not detract from the beauty of the Vallen house decorations. All decked in gold to match the other cute little houses around it, the place sparkled. Carver was out of the car nearly while Hawke was still parking and rearranging his gift and appetizer one last time before striding towards the door.

"Wait," she called after him. "I have something for you."

Fishing the package out of her purse, she handed Carver a box of sparklers. "I thought that maybe we could do them here if you want, I know it's been a while since we-"

"No." Carver handed them back to her, eyes dark. "I don't want to think about them tonight. I just want to get this over with and be done with this stupid season."

He didn't have to say who they were.

"Fine," Hawke sighed and took them back, crestfallen.

As they all walked towards the house with varying degrees of nervousness and anger Carver looked over at his mother and sister. "Just… try to be normal tonight. We won't stay long."

"Of course, Malcom." Leandra murmured, staring up at the lights along the rooflines.

Hawke caught Carver's eye and smiled weakly, apologizing silently for her mother.

"It's so wonderful to see you all," Aveline said sincerely as she opened the door. The party was in full swing as they stepped in the house. Carver clutched his guacamole like a drowning man until Aveline spirited it away to the buffet table. Soon after he disappeared to join his teammates and left Hawke and Leandra to stand in the living room.

This was a horrible idea. Even Leandra looked almost concerned as she surveyed the room. All of the families were dressed beautifully, laughing prettily and clinking crystalline glasses as they spoke of the happenings in Hightown and at Kirkwall Academy, gossiping with more verve than most students. Looking down at her faded black party dress and scuffed flats Hawke could not have felt more out of place. Just as she was about to go right back to her car with Leandra Aveline appeared.

"Give me a hand for a moment?"

"Um, yeah," Hawke said to Aveline's back as she was already halfway to the kitchen.

"Just stay here Mom, I'll be right back."

Scurrying after her, Hawke found herself in the middle of the largest selection of pies she had ever seen.

Aveline turned to her, hands on her hips and Hawke shrunk back on instinct from the confrontational stance before remembering that Aveline had been the biggest help to their family of anyone in the past years.

"Hawke. I know that without a doubt no eighteen year old in their right mind would be here of their own free will. So I want you to go do something fun tonight. Call your friends, or go to the library or whatever it is you do to relax. I'll watch your mother and Carver, they'll be fine."

"I, well, I can't just leave them. My mom-"

"Leandra will be fine. I brought some knitting things and set up a rocking chair in the kitchen so she can be with Donnic and me while we cook." Aveline stepped closer to Hawke, eyes warm and sympathetic, and put a hand on her shoulder. "They'll be fine, Hawke. I'll take them home tonight."

Hawke nodded slowly. Of course she would love to leave all of the snooty Hightowners for Aveline to deal with but it seemed unfair.

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. Go enjoy your youth."

Hawke smiled at Aveline then. "Thank you. Call me if you need anything?"

"Of course. Now leave before I have to chase you out with my 'Don't' sign."

Fenris sat in the den of the lighthouse, drinking champagne out of a bottle.

It was his… second bottle? Third? He had lost track.

He had gotten a few generous offers from Aveline and Varric to ring in the New Year with them, but he had refused them all. Mingling with strangers was hardly his idea of a good time, people would whisper and stare, and with all of the noise and commotion he could not be as alert as he would like.

The only person he wished to see was Hawke.

The tension between them had grown exponentially in the past weeks; every touch set his skin on fire, every lingering gaze had hunger howling inside him. Fenris was not sure which was worse: being so close and yet unable to reach out or being away from her. Each day he came closer to acting on his desires, to saying something, to doing anything that would end this agonizing uncertainty.

But instead, he chose to drink.

A knock on the door stopped his hand reaching for the bottle.

Rising carefully, he grabbed his gun out from a piece of broken baseboard molding and stalked towards the front door.

He looked out the peep hole and almost dropped the gun in surprise.

"Hawke?"

Her distorted image nodded and smiled weakly.

Hiding the gun again, Fenris rushed back to open the door.

"Hi Fenris," she started. "I… see you have no shirt on. Bad time?"

Fenris looked down stupidly to see that he was, in fact, shirtless.

He felt himself color and looked back at Hawke. She was smiling slightly, amused, which made him feel all the more foolish.

"Please come in," he said, and she stepped through the doorway. "What is that?"

"Oh, these?" Hawke lifted the little box. "They're sparklers. I know it's silly, I just thought, well, I suppose it doesn't matter."

At her doleful expression Fenris stepped closer on instinct. "It's not silly," he half slurred, suddenly mesmerized by the sweet smell of her hair. He remembered back to just a few weeks ago with her body slumped against his on top of the lighthouse looking out at the ocean. "We can…." He gestured vaguely as he searched for the words, brows furrowing.

"Light them?" Hawke suggested.

Fenris nodded and reached for the box, but caught her wrist instead.

Soft and warm and real, it was everything he had not dared to want. He felt more than heard Hawke's breath catch in her throat and everything stilled around them.

They were both new to this, in a sense. She had experienced little and what he had seen and done had been twisted and blackened by fear and pain. This fragile thing before them, this choice, was so different and terrifyingly wonderful it made him blank just at the thought of it.

His thumb stoked along the line of her palm, his eyes fixed on the contrast of their skin.

"Fenris," Hawke breathed.

His eyes found hers, wide and grey and so lovely.

"You've been drinking."

The disappointment in her voice was almost enough to kill him.

He dropped her wrist and pulled back. There was no point in lying. "Yes," he said quietly. "I didn't expect company."

"I can go if-"

"No. Please," he said, made hollow by the thought of her leaving. "Stay."

She nodded. "Only if you have some water, I don't want you passing out while you're holding something that's on fire."

"That seems only fair."

She smiled slightly at him and he found himself returning the expression ten-fold. He wanted to maker he smile more.

Hawke fixed him a cup of water while Fenris rummaged through his drawer of cigarettes looking for a lighter.

"Here," he said, already turning towards her.

They traded and after Hawke was satisfied by how much water he imbibed she nodded smugly.

"Much better, Fenris."

"Would you like some champagne?"

"I drove here, I can't."

"Then stay the night."

Her lips parted and she looked rather taken aback before pausing. "I… suppose I could." Her family was taken care of, there was really nothing holding her back.

"It will not be safe on the roads tonight" he said desperately, willing to give anything, say anything to make her stay.

Hawke shrugged. When in Rome, after all. "Sure. But first, I believe it's sparkler time."

With that she grabbed his hand and they raced up the stairs. He managed to grab a sweater left hanging on the railing and pull it on just as they reached the terrace.

The night was, as Kirkwall nights this time of year often were, bone-chillingly cold. Still, the warmth in her hands and smile was more than enough for Fenris.

She set down her purse and produced the lighter and sparklers, opening the box and handing one to him with the excitement of a child.

"Ready?"

He nodded. She struck hers and the fire it produced was beautiful and immediate and rich and gold. Richer though was the gold of her eyes, seeming to generate the color rather than reflect it. Hawke smiled as she swung it around lightly, watching the sparks fall onto the concrete floor.

"Ferrotitanium," Hawke said happily. "That gives it the color."

Fenris could only smile.

"Light yours!" She passed the lighter to him and after a few tries Fenris got the thing lit.

His burned just as bright, but it was a deep red.

"Aw yours has strontium nitrate you lucky bastard," Hawke laughed.

He barely heard her. Fenris had not seen anything so beautiful since, since-

Hawke with her lips parted, body so close he could feel the heat of her just beyond his own clothes. Everything about her was red, from her mouth to her cheeks to the color of her dress and more than anything her spirit, always smoldering inside her, burning and warming in turn, inspiring those around her in ways she never even realized.

She spun easily and let the white sparks fall towards the ocean below. Turning to him she pointed the sparkler at him like a fencer. "En garde, Fenris."

"Allez," he replied, positioning his feet accordingly.

She followed his lead and they parried and struck and circled till they both of them were breathless and laughing, red from the biting cold and excitement.

Just as the things were nearing their end Hawke beckoned him to the rail, nudging him playfully with her hip.

Fenris' head felt much better, far clearer than earlier by any means, and he sighed contentedly, circling his sparkler around Hawke's until red and white sparks were entwined in the wind.

"That was wonderful, Fenris. Thank you," she said with heartbreaking sincerity.

"Whenever you have the desire to set things aflame, you're welcome to do so here."

"Ha! Careful what you offer."

"You know my door is always open to you, Hawke."

She looked up at him, something delicate and utterly wonderful there in her gaze. "That means a lot," she said quietly.

Their sparklers burned out just then, leaving their hands dark.

Perhaps it was the cover of night, or the closeness of her, or the events of the last few weeks, but Fenris could bear it no longer.

He dropped the firework and wrapped his hand around her waist, the other coming to tangle in her hair as he kissed her.

Hawke was still against him for a moment. Fenris held her tighter, willing her to respond, and just as he was about to pull away she stepped into him and returned the kiss.

That moment shown brighter than either of their sparklers had.

They crashed against each other with vigor, each taking in as much of the other as they could, grasping and desperate, months of longing and weeks of tension coming to a head.

The thin fabric of her dress chafed against his clothing and the friction of her body against his was more perfect than any dream he'd ever had. Their urgency grew as his hand skirted lower along her back. Hawke moved into his touch with a mewl that made what little reason Fenris held onto all but disappear.

He moved down her neck to the hollow of her throat, nipping slightly and reveling in the sounds she made. Tomorrow she would bear his mark and something inside him howled in pride at that knowledge.

Fenris got to the top of her dress and slowed to admire the softness of her. His hand dragged along her side up to the edge of her breast and she leaned into him. She shivered and it occurred to him suddenly that she must be cold; her skin was ashen and next to the heat of his hands he had not noticed how chilled she was. The reality of where they were- on top of his decrepit residence in the middle of winter- made him suddenly realize how wrong this was.

"Wait," he said hoarsely. He pulled back to look at her despite her impatient groan. "This is not right."

At the pain on her face he hurriedly continued. "When we do this I want you to remember it and be warm and comfortable. This, here," he motioned at the scatter debris moving with the wind, "this is not what I wish for you. You are special to me Hawke, I would have my actions and your first time reflect that."

Hawke straightened, putting distance between them that made Fenris want to curse at his backwards morals, but her face did not hold anger or sadness. "I… think you're right. We both got rather caught up in the moment but, um, I did really enjoy it," she added with a slight smirk.

He bit his lip to keep from jumping her but recovered himself quickly. "As did I."

"Then we're in agreement." She took his hand and grabbed her things. "And it is freezing up here. Shall we head back into the belly of the beast?"

Fenris could only smile at her, at all of her, and nod.

Once they were back in the main room Fenris re-kindled the fire and brought over the champagne to where Hawke was settled in the blankets. He sat next to her at an appropriate distance and Hawke promptly pulled him closer so that their legs were touching. Her skin was no longer cold and her smile was bright.

She was happy, she was safe, and in this moment, she was his.

"Only two more minutes! So, Fenris, any life-changing resolutions for the new year?" Hawke hiccupped and giggled slightly before taking another swig from the bottle and passing it to him.

There were so many answers to that. He wanted to be as brave as Hawke, as kind or courageous, but more than anything he wished to give her the best of him. After all, she deserved nothing less.

"I want to do this more often." Simple, but honest.

"Me too."

"Truly?"

Hawke smiled and leaned into his arm. "Absolutely. I don't want to be anywhere else."

Carefully, Fenris brushed back Hawke's hair to see her face. She looked up at him, eyes full of a hope and promise he could barely fathom.

"Fenris?" she breathed, and her lips were so close that a single movement would have them reunited.

"Yes?"

"Happy New Year."

A/N: Hawke said it best- happy new year! Spirited is officially complete, so thank you everyone who has read/favorited/followed and reviewed. Stay tuned for Kirkwall Academy and Correctional updates! :D