Author's note: I was all set to jump into the excitement of the events at the thaig but figured I should add in one more chapter of lovely fluff before things get heavy. As always, feedback is welcome.

Updated 3/20/15: Fixed some formatting/grammatical errors. Nothing of substance has changed.

Bartrand was elated, as expected. Despite the late hour, he broke open a cask of ale and got the hireling band started up. The camp was suddenly buzzing with activity and there was an air of celebration among the group –all but the four who had just returned from the thaig. The experience had left them all on edge, unsure of how wise this excavation actually was.

Exhausted, they all returned to their tents – Bartrand no longer requesting a guard on duty – and immediately fell asleep.

Despite his eagerness to get to the thaig and start exploring, Bartrand overslept, allowing the rest of the group to get some well-needed rest. Hawke was the first to wake up. Her eyes blinked open and for the first time that trip, she felt ready to face the day, rather than feeling the desire to curl up and sleep longer. Lying quietly she felt steady pressure of Fenris' chest on her back as he breathed softly. One arm was under her head, the other wrapped around her, holding her hand across her chest. She nuzzled herself further into him, hearing him sigh in her ear. His slow, steady breathing returned as he continued to sleep.

When Varric first approached me, I never imagined that this is what our trip into the Deep Roads would be like. She smiled to herself. Despite how emotionally draining it has been at times, I'm not sure Fenris and I would have gotten to this point if we'd remained in Kirkwall. She closed her eyes as she ran through the previous day's events in her mind. When her mind reached the point where they discovered the thaig, however, a chill ran down her spine causing her to shiver. Her sudden movement must have woken Fenris, because at that moment he gave her hand a squeeze and she felt him press his nose into her hair.

"How do you manage to smell so much better than the rest of us?" his voice was muffled. She laughed softly.

"I happen to sweat morning dew and rare Orlesian perfumes."

"Ahh, it all makes sense now," he pulled his face away from her hair. Removing his arm from under her head, he propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her. "I'll have to bottle some of your sweat for myself."

"Yeah," she turned her head slightly and gave him a wry grin, "Because that doesn't sound at all creepy."

He laughed, smiling back at her. She turned onto her back so she could look up at him without straining her neck. Gently, she reached up and brushed his hair back behind his ear so she could get a better view of his face. He mimicked her motion, letting the back of his hand continue down from her ear and brush softly against her cheek. She closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh, then reached her arms above her head to give her body a good, long stretch. He continued moving his hand down to the collar of his shirt, which she had worn to bed again.

Pushing the shirt aside slightly, he began running his fingers along her collarbone. Hawke's eyes remained closed from her stretch moments ago and her breath quickened. Moving his hand up to the crook of her neck, he brushed his thumb softly against her exposed throat. He dropped his elbow back down so he was lying next to her as he continued to caress her. Slowly he moved his face in toward her neck, pressing his nose against her to try to capture as much of her scent as he could. She tilted her head slightly to expose more of her neck to him. He responded by lightly brushing his lips against her skin.

Hawke's heart was racing as she felt the touch of his lips on her neck. Thank you, Maker, Andraste, whoever! She cried out in her head. His hand slid further across her shoulder and under her shirt, letting it rest on her arm. He shifted slightly and gave her a soft kiss at the crook of her neck, causing her to let out a soft moan as she squirmed a little under his touch. He paused, seeming to read her response carefully as he moved his lips down to her collarbone. Hawke had to fight every urge she had to move his head up and give him a long, deep kiss. Control yourself, Marian. You made a promise to him. Let him take his time. She tried to ignore the burning sensation that was growing in her core.

Fenris moved his hand toward the center of her chest, where the fabric of the shirt met in a V. He pushed the fabric back exposing her shoulder, his palm brushing the top of her breast along the way. She uttered another strained sigh. Control. Your. Self. She repeated her mantra. Propping himself up slightly again, he moved closer to her so he could softly kiss her bare shoulder. His body was halfway on top of her, pressing into her side. She could feel him against her leg and knew that he was enjoying this as much as she was. She involuntarily slid her leg up, letting her thigh slowly brush against him through his leggings. He groaned into her shoulder and she could feel the weight of his body pressing down even harder.

Hawke slowly raised her arm and brought her hand up behind his neck, running her fingers up and down it softly. The pressure against her thigh increased at her touch, causing flames to shoot up her legs. She suddenly stopped herself as an all-too-familiar glow appeared. No! She panicked. Marian, what did you tell yourself? No, no, no. She felt Fenris freeze up but before his body was fully alight, the glow was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Fenris…" she whispered, her voice low and hoarse, "We don't – you don't have to…" she stopped immediately as he moved his hand down to her outer thigh, sliding it up under her shirt and over her underclothes, feeling the curve of her hip, and stopping to rest on her narrow waist, all the while letting his lips slide across her shoulder and back over her collarbone. Her hands dropped swiftly to the bedroll as she dug her fingernails into the fabric in frustration, slightly arching her back. Dropping back onto his side next to her, he moved his hand across her now-exposed stomach, feeling her strong, hard abdominal muscles underneath her soft skin.

"Fenris," she whispered again.

"Hm?" his voice was gruff, making her squirm a little.

"Can you—please—will you kiss me?" the minute the words escaped her mouth she grimaced. MARIAN. She chided herself severely as Fenris' hand stopped moving, what are you doing? You're going to ruin everything. She felt his body shift again, He's going to leave. He's going to escape. It's going to be like before; you've pushed him, when you know he's terrified of hurting you. Her thoughts were interrupted though as she realized he was propping himself back up until he was nearly on top of her again.

The look in his eyes was one of determination – the same look he had that night in his room when he worked up the courage to touch her hands. Her eyes met his as he moved his face closer to hers, her heart was pounding so hard she was sure she'd wake up the entire camp. She could feel his breath on her lips, the pressure of his body against hers, his heartbeat matching the pace of her own. He stopped short though as the lyrium began to glow again, firing up brightly. She froze. Look what you've done. She wanted to cry at the thought of putting him through this again. But he remained, closing his eyes tightly, yet appearing more relaxed and controlled than he had the last time they nearly kissed. A few seconds passed, though it felt like an eternity, and the glow faded. He immediately fell onto his back next to her and exhaled heavily. Hawke remained frozen, unsure of his state of mind.

"Marian," his voice was gentle, "I'm sorry, I wanted to—"

"No, Fenris." She cut him off, "It was my fault for pushing you. I should have known from last time that you weren't ready." They both stared up at the ceiling of the tent.

"Thank you," was his only response. You were so close this time, he sighed to himself, recalling the feel of her skin on his lips and under his fingers. He continued his internal pep talk, you just need more time, and you need to learn to control this. But you've never been closer to Marian than you were this morning. He fought off the feelings of remorse and anger that tried to creep into his head. This is about more than your ability to touch her, to show her you love her. This is about freedom. I can get there. With Marian's help, I know I can get there.

"I don't want to give up," he spoke again, turning to face Hawke. She turned onto her side to face him as well, curling her arm up under her head, looking very relaxed despite what had just happened.

"I'm glad," she smiled. "But, please tell me if I'm pressuring you."

He reached out to brush a stray hair out of her face. "You aren't," he assured her. "But I promise to tell you if you ever do." He recalled her words, "I don't want to be pushed out of your life. I want to be a part of it. I want you to be part of mine." He knew that he needed to be open with her, even if he couldn't tell her everything at this point. He swiftly grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it. "I love you," he reminded her.

A huge smile spread across her face, "I love you, too, Fenris." She returned his gesture and kissed the top of his hand. She sat up and readjusted her clothing. "But I think we ought to get moving. The sooner we explore that thaig, the sooner we can get back to Kirkwall." And to a much more comfortable and private bed, she added to herself.