This is what you might call a refurbished version of the old chapter. Which became so long, I had to split it in two. So, a kind of "in between" bonus chapter, if you like.

Enjoy!

Give me an Answer chapter 7

Fenris slowly rose to the surface of existence. He had been sleeping like a log, which was so unlike him, it all but bore witness of the extreme fatigue that had overwhelmed him last night. At first he couldn't exactly discern where he was, but then he felt Marian's warm and reassuring smooth body pressed into his, and the memory of what happened last night came flowing back. There had been arguments and yelling, there had been tears and confessions and revelations, and there had been breathtaking mind-searing lovemaking. And there would be a wedding. Later. Not now. Not yet. At this very moment he simply basked in the soft early morning light that came floating like eiderdown through the window (apparently the only mellow event taking place in this blighted cruel country) while lying in a luxurious bed, with the woman he loved so much, he would without a second thought sacrifice his life for her, steadily locked in his arms. He frowned. Something was bothering his blissful peace; some irritating persistent sound he couldn't identify at first, kept ranging at the back of his awareness and tried to catch his reluctant attention. He made a grave effort at opening his eyes and then recognized the source of the disturbance.

'There's someone banging at the door,' he sleepily murmured, unable and definitively unwilling to do something about it. He didn't want to abandon his safe haven.

'Hmm?' Marian was, if possible, even deeper plunged into oblivion and her reaction was nothing more than some kind of intuitive response to his irresistible voice that rumbled lowly in her ear. If she had been more alert, i.e. less covered in divine sleep, she had undoubtedly thought something like "her master's voice" and had laughed about it. Probably. The words "Master" and "Fenris" weren't a happy combination, at least not in his eyes. Or ears.

'I said – '

'Open this fucking door right now!' someone yelled at the top of their lungs. 'Because if not, I'll bash it in this very moment and I don't care in what kind of actions you're wrapped up! I need help!'

'Shit, it´s Isabela,' Hawke mumbled, frowning delicately. 'What now?'

'I believe she wants to get in,' Fenris remarked, not taking any actions whatsoever to do something about it.

'So, what's keeping you?' Hawke informed groggily.

'I already got the wine last night,' Fenris protested. He thought it a solid motive not to leave his private little heaven. He snuggled even closer to his lover.

'I'm serious!' the pirate queen screamed from the other side of the door. The banging became more demanding.

'Oh bloody hell,' Hawke groused. Without actually thinking she freed herself from her elf's firm embrace, stumbled out of bed, stark naked crossed the rather vast space to the door and opened it, leaving Fenris behind with more than half of his private heaven ripped away. No woman, no soft body but instead pitiless coldness fast creeping in. He sat up, disturbed and annoyed, considering he might as well could have answered the urgent call himself, until he ogled Marian's more than appealing bottom. That, at least was worth something.

Marian had hardly slid aside the heavy iron bolt and opened the door ajar, when Isabela darted inside and grabbed Hawke's shoulders, partly holding on to her and partly keeping her upright. 'We have to get out of here. Now!' she cried out urgently. Her eyes glowed panicky.

'Andraste's burning tits, calm down, will you!' Hawke irritably reacted, while staggering back. 'Give me some time to breathe. Maker's balls, I'm hardly awake! And let go of me godsdamned!'

'Very eloquently put,' Fenris commented from his comfortable position in the bed. 'I don't think I have heard you utter so many curses in one sentence before.' It made both women relax somewhat.

The pirate looked Hawke up and down. Through her desperation it dawned on her the woman before her was as naked as on the day she was born. She liked what she saw. Because, whatever crisis might appear, she always stayed Isabela. 'Well, to finally see you –'

'Don't even start!' Marian spat. She turned and walked briskly back to the bed where she slumped down, wide awake by now. 'What have you done this time?' On second thought, she got up again and started to search for her clothes that got strewn around the night before. She found her panties; that was to say, what was left of them, sadly turned into irreparable sorry shreds of textile. Cursing under her breath she went for her meagre luggage and retrieved a replacement, grateful she had packed more than one change before coming here. Vehemently she ignored both Fenris's and Isabela's following heated looks. 'Drank all the stock of smuggled illegal whisky?' she grimly continued her mock interrogation. 'Stolen the secretly hidden stash of red lyrium out of the vault? Murdered the First Warden?' She tried to struggle into her smallclothes. Isabela made a faint squeaking sound at the last suggestion which made Hawke look up sharply, leaving the fastening of her bra for what it was. 'For heaven's sake, woman, don't tell me you actually murdered the First Warden!'

Isabela mumbled something incomprehensible.

'What?!'

'I said, I may have knocked him flat out but I don't think he's dead.'

Hawke stared at her, at a loss for words.

'He asked me to marry him!' the pirate queen wailed. 'What was I supposed to do?!'

Fenris burst out laughing, something he very seldom did, and Isabela looked at him with a hurt expression. Hawke just menacingly scowled at her, in the meanwhile succeeding, be it with some difficulty, in connecting the little hooks and eyes on her back. 'It never occurred to you, you could simply have said "yes" and after that sneaked out?' she hissed.

'I panicked,' Isabela tried to defend herself. 'He kept on rambling about what a marvellous couple we would make, what with all the connections; he as a Warden, beats me what kind of connections he would come up with, probably darkspawn willing to buy rich silks and expensive incenses, me as a, er, merchant and how he was infatuated with me, even loved me, because love on first sight blah blah – ugh – and painted a future with large profits and children to take over the family business we would establish. I mean, children!' She almost puked.

'Screw you Isabela,' Hawke said harshly, pulling her tunic over her head with such force that the silk was in danger of ending up in the same pitiable state as her smalls. 'How you always find yourself in this kind of impossible situations is beyond me. And of course we have to find a solution for your problem. Could you for once rein in your feelings of lust to begin with?!' By now she had got as far as tying the laces of her trousers, with more vigour than per se necessary. 'Horny sailors are one thing, as are besotted lousy poets, but once and again you will stumble upon men with really bad intentions, like wanting to start a family. And stop laughing, you oaf,' she angrily turned to Fenris. 'Get dressed before we have the whole army of Weisshaupt's Grey Wardens all over us.' She picked up his trousers and shirt, and realised at the same moment they had had the same treatment as her underwear. She groaned wholeheartedly. Speaking of lust.

Fenris's merry laugh changed abruptly into an indignant cough. 'Oaf?!' he reacted, sounding quite offended. He sat up straight and remorselessly went on, 'And what clothes exactly do you imagine I can put on anyhow? As I recall rather well, you made short work of them last night. Literarily.' But the moment he saw his wife's-to-be dangerous expression he back-pedalled, if only for the wellbeing of the breakable objects in the room. Before he could say anything more, however, he got overruled by Isabela's exited catcall.

'Ooh, that's priceless! You jumped each other like –'

'That's enough,' Hawke interrupted her before hurtful words could be uttered in the wild-animal department. She turned to Fenris. 'Have you brought spare clothes?' He nodded with a twinkle in his eyes he wasn't able to hide. Clearly he had passed the station of Anders's upsetting accusations. That, at least, was one good thing about this otherwise distressing morning. 'Alright. Isabela, do us a favour and go and fetch them, will you? Together with his armour and weapons? I have the nasty feeling we will need those before the day is over. And before you start to protest, I don't know where Fenris's room, is. I take it you do. You arrived here together.'

Isabela gave her mock salute. 'I'll be back in a moment, Captain Lovebird,' she giggled.

'And after that, you better gather your own gear and meet us at the gate,' Fenris put in a word. 'It won't take more than fifteen minutes, I suppose we'll have at any rate that much time before we have to face an attack. We will get you safely out.' He considered he owed her at least this much. After all, she had dragged him here, to this Maker forbidden desolate place, to reunite him with Marian. She had gone through all sorts of ordeals; not only to get him to this fortress, but also to cope with his insufferable moods back in Kirkwall. It was no doubt the most she had ever done for someone. Saving her from an enraged First Warden was the least he could do. Men deprived of their pride could turn into very dangerous creatures, he knew all too well.

Hawke, on the other hand, didn't feel that forgiving. 'We planned to get married today,' she darkly snarled. 'You may have great problems with the concept of that institution, as it happens we don't. And I figured the First Warden had the authority to bind us together. So what are we supposed to do now?'

'The only thing related to binding and the First Warden right now, is the belt I tied him up with,' Isabela murmured. 'Together with the handkerchief I used as a gag.'

Hawke glared daggers at her, not certain if the tying-up-part was some safety measure or sexual play and, frankly, she didn't want to know.

Marian's remark left Fenris startled. 'Today?'

Again she turned sharply. 'Getting cold feet?! It was your idea in the first place!'

He tried to dissolve into the headboard of the bed under her flaming gaze. It didn't occur often he found himself at the receiving end of her fury, and at the sudden he secretly wondered why he had been so grateful she had become her old self again. Of course his inner voice screamed at him he was an asshole and reacted like a downright selfish ape, and of course he agreed. 'No,' he staggered on, rather meekly. 'But I thought, er, I don't even have a ring. And don't you want some pretty dress and flowers and ...' he raked his mind to come up with what women in general wanted on their wedding day. 'Er, bridesmaids ...?' he ended lamely.

'No!' she all but shouted. 'I don't want any of those stupid fancy things, I just want you! And you,' she viciously turned back to Isabela, 'ruined it. As usual.'

She left Fenris speechless. I just want you. After all the things they had shared; the pain, the accusations, all the wounds that had been ripped open, and closed for that matter, after all the turbulence and trepidations, after all the consuming fears, the hesitations and deep dark depressions, she without thinking blurted out the four words that were so important to him. No hiding, no intricate explanations, no false poetic words, only that: I just want you. He swallowed down a lump in his throat.

Hawke deflated a little after her outburst. Just like Fenris, she realised Isabela had done a lot to get them back together and to support the desperate elf. And her, when it came down to it. 'I'm sorry,' she started remorsefully, 'I didn't mean to –'

Isabela interrupted her with a bright smile and a casual wave with her hand; she just got some kind of crazy epiphany. 'The First Warden isn't the only one entitled to marry you. We can find Chantries all over the place when we pull it off to get out of this stronghold and leave this blasted part of Thedas.' She wasn't surprised to see Hawke's face contort with disgust. 'All right, no Chantry meddling. I know your opinion, it was just a suggestion I wanted to leave open.' Her beam became even wider. 'I have a better proposition: I´m a Captain. I can marry you.´

Both Hawke´s and Fenris´s eyes flew wide. ´You´re a pirate!´ Fenris cried out, near to panic. 'No real authority!´

Isabela raised a finger in protest. 'Ah,' she said, pointedly. 'I hear Captain Man Hands' influence echoing in your opinion, or perhaps better, how I once threw those words into her very face. But you're wrong.' She beamed some more. ' You see, my handsome sweet honeycomb, I have a ship, a crew, an Admiral's hat and lots of other captains willing to follow my lead and obey my orders, once I get back to Kirkwall and finally can set to sea. In fact I have a whole fleet under my command. I think that counts for more than enough authority.'

Pleadingly Fenris looked at Marian. 'You can't seriously consider this.'

But Hawke, in the meantime catching the irony of the situation, mirrored Isabela's broad grin. ´To be honest, I think it's brilliant. All right, you marry us right here and now and we will smuggle you out of Weisshaupt.' Her smile widened even more when she addressed Fenris. 'You can't deny that Isabela marrying us after your, how shall I put it, rather alternative proposal is quite fitting.' Winking at the pirate, she continued, 'And you marrying us after declining a proposal yourself by knocking out the foul offender, is even more appropriate, if not hysterically funny.'

Oh yes, she was definitely her old self.

The elf let out a deep sigh, knowing he was defeated. This was a battle he couldn't possibly win and, to be honest, it wasn't worth fighting over.

Isabela darted out off the room. 'I think we have about half an hour, perhaps even more. Sailor's knots, he won't untangle those in a minute, if at all. Not at all, I figure. And he can't call for help with that gag. He has to wait for his aide-de-camp to turn up and that can take a while, what with all the wine we provided the lad with last night, so he would fall in a deep sleep and couldn't hear us.'

'Then why were you acting like some frenzied bitch?' Hawke shouted after her.

'A girl likes to make an entrance,' she heard Isabela call before she got out of earshot. 'What's the meaning of getting attention if you don't make a scene?!'

With a well meant grunt Hawke sank on the bed. 'Pirates,' she grumbled. 'You can't hate them but sometimes they make it very difficult not to.'

Fenris snaked an arm around her waist and rested his chin upon her shoulder. 'Hysterically funny?' he informed, partly amused and partly affronted. 'Is that how you approach this marriage? As some kind of charade?'

Hawke leant into his embrace. She had wanted to pounce upon him, but his arm, holding her like a vice, prevented that. 'Of course not! You know better than that, I hope.' She twisted her head to look at him and caught the slight smile that still lingered around his mouth. 'You're just needling me,' she said irritably.

'Perhaps,' he drawled, softly dragging lips along the skin of her neck. 'But just you know, I didn't ask you to marry me to play some game.'

At those words she flew up, but he had her all but in his firm grip and she didn't stood a chance. 'You are needling me,' she accused him. 'And just you know, I take it all very seriously.' She backed down somewhat. 'I'm sorry if I spoke out of my turn, but since you asked me to marry you and I agreed, I thought –'

'To get it over with as fast as possible?' Fenris wickedly suggested.

Hawke screamed in frustration. 'You horrible elf! You know damn well that's not true!'

'And you never took into consideration that I might be the one longing for the flowers, the pretty dress, the bridesmaids and the tear jerking ceremony?' he went relentlessly on. He revelled in the series of reactions that unfurled along her face. Starting with pure shock, followed by unbelief, going via a hint of guilt (just a hint, thankfully; he had more than enough of that unsavoury subject, for now, if not forever), leading to an expression that lingered somewhere between irritation and glee. And finally she burst into a fit of laughter.

'You're just kidding me! You're actually joking!' she spluttered.

'Must I keep pointing out I'm not always serious?' Fenris mockingly complained. 'You people just don't seem to get it. I can crack a joke now and again.'

Still laughing Hawke planted a kiss on his nose. At the same moment Isabela dashed back into the room and tossed a backpack on the bed. 'Your spare clothes,' she said. The clinking of metal announced her next remark. 'And your armour and sword are lying right here, where I dropped them. Maker! That thing is heavy! Hurry up, I heard the aide-de-camp already throw up. It won't be long before he's able to make the embarrassing but joyful discovery of his superior being tied up.' She swirled to Hawke. 'And now, sweetness, we're going to look for some props we need for your wedding.'

And so, not five minutes later, they were married, with a signed and sealed and important and above that very genuine looking sheet of parchment and all (the parchment snatched from the small writing-desk standing in a corner of the living room of the suite). They had even managed to fabricate two similar rings out of the plaited fragile looking twines of gold Isabela skilfully had pried off an expensive set of candlesticks.

'I guess we can always have a proper celebration and party when we find the time,' Hawke said after the obligatory and traditional kiss, and then she resolutely pushed Isabela out of the suite. 'Go get your own gear. And I think it's wise to disguise yourself,' she called after her before she closed the door.

'As what?' the pirate queen retorted sarcastically.

'I don't care. As a Grey Warden, a servant, a dressed up monkey as far as I'm concerned. Use your imagination, you have plenty of the stuff, you're practically drenched with it. I just think you shouldn't try to walk out of here as your very conspicuous and striking self with an infuriated First Warden wanting your blood or offspring or probably both. Just to be on the safe side.'

'Are you really alright with this?' Fenris asked after Isabela had taken her leave.

'With what?' With a heavy sigh Marian pushed the door shut. She drew a hand through her already dishevelled hair, making a complete mess of it. She longed for a bath.

'This wedding or whatever you would call it.'

She walked over to him and nestled in his inviting arms. 'Of course I'm alright with it. The only thing that matters to me is that I'm yours and you're mine.' She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eyes. 'And you must agree this was by far the most bizarre and memorable wedding ever: performed in the middle of nowhere, in a hostile turned fortress due to the behaviour of the registrar, the marriage contract written on pinched parchment, the wedding rings hastily made out of stolen gold and the bride and groom ready to flee the scene to save their hides and said registrar. In short: so like us. We could as well have married in a dragon's den; as a matter of fact that would have been more plausible. Varric will have a field day when he hears about this. Although he undoubtedly will state it is too idiotic to be true and thus the tale will be useless for his stories.' She started to giggle uncontrollably.

Fenris, who did agree by the way, silenced her with a heated kiss, a kiss much more passionate than the one that had sealed their marriage. It was the only thing he could come up with to prevent a hysterical eruption. It worked.