Thank you again to everyone who has been favoriting the story. I greatly appreciate it and it encourages me. Things are still shaky, but they are picking up again. Enjoy!

Fenris pushed Hawke's hands away when he felt another surge of energy course through his body. "No!" he snapped. The moment physical contact was broken with Hawke, he felt normal again, completely free of the magical hold he felt wrapped around his body. He let out a breath and glanced at Hawke, mad at himself for losing control again. "I'm sorry," he said, clasping her hand in his.

She tightened her fingers around his hand and smiled. "Nothing to be sorry about. You're making even more progress. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to control the influence of lyrium."

"Are you sure that mage isn't trying to kill me? I don't feel that this is necessary… all this training," Fenris frowned, trying to keep himself from really stating how he felt about Anders.

"He knows hurting you means hurting me, so I'm quite certain this is safe," Hawke said soothingly. She reached out and wiped the sweat from his brow, and gently kissed his forehead. "I do believe he is right. The more you explore your gift, the more you will come to terms with who you are and who you've become."

"This is no gift," Fenris spat. He didn't direct his anger toward her, at least he never meant to display his feelings that way. But he was barely able to accept the lyrium scars as part of his life. He had spent so many years believing that he didn't want the lyrium infused with his body, but the revelation from his sister shocked him to the core. Even if he did accept the fact that he competed for this power, the reason why he had done so was no longer in his life.

Hawke wrapped her arms around him. "I'm here for you," she whispered. "Your moods can't turn me away," she added, lightly teasing his ear with her lips.

Frustration had melted away, and Fenris gave in to her as he most likely would till the end of his life. He didn't want magic to run his life, but he didn't mind the spell she cast on him. Her touch was all he needed. There were times when he wanted to hold her and cherish her, and there were other times when he was lost in raw passion and just needed to feel her against his body. Perhaps it was the lyrium, but he felt the latter.

He rolled over on top of her and torn at her clothing, not caring where they landed or if they were ripped. Hawke didn't seem to mind either and she accepted his aggression, evenly matching his energy. Fenris was reminded of the very first night he was with Hawke. It was such a heavenly feeling, being near her. He remembered hearing her, feeling her, touching her, and giving in to her affection. This time and every time after, the outcome will be different. He would stay with her always.

"Fenris…" she whispered again, running her hands over his back. Like so many times before, he felt her lips on his ears and moved every so slightly, but there was no sound. But he knew what she mouthed each time, and he groaned in pleasure each time they were joined. "And I, you," he gasped. This time was no different.

He heard someone outside their door and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a letter slipped underneath. Hawke held him tighter, closer and growled, "they can wait."

Fenris smiled and kissed her, admiring her ability to let go every so often. She didn't always have to be the Champion of Kirkwall. Right now, she was just Hawke, and she was reveling in the physical and emotion pleasure he was giving her. "I couldn't agree more," he said, ignoring the letter and continuing to please the woman beneath him.

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Hawke was led into one of many private rooms of the Keep. The letter had urgently requested her presence, and it was signed with a Fereldan seal. Hawke's mind wandered for a while, but she decided to save her energy and just find out who had sent her the mysterious letter. "I will let our guest of honor know of your arrival, Champion," said the male servant. "Thank you for responding to our request so quickly." He gave her a low bow and shut the doors closed, leaving Hawke to wait for her meeting with King Alistair.

However, Hawke realized that she was not alone. Standing with arms crossed over her chest was a woman staring out a window, peering down into the streets of Hightown. "You must be the Champion," said the woman. She turned slightly to observe Hawke. The first thing Hawke noticed as the woman's striking violet eyes. It was a rare characteristic, but not unheard of in Fereldan women.

"Are you an escort for royal family?" Hawke asked, unsure of what to make of the mysterious lady. She didn't feel the need to defend herself, but she was certainly not going to let her guard down.

The woman shook her heard and gave a sad smile. "Not necessarily. You are here to meet the king, however, I am here for my own reasons."

Hawke took a moment to survey the woman. Most of her body was hidden by a cloak that was deep green in color, but it was easy to see armored boots made of dark jet. Hawke assumed that the woman wasn't dressed for combat, but she was no mere peasant either. "You have quite a reputation here, messere," the woman said. "I'm glad to see a fellow Fereldan make a name for herself in a city where our kind are looked down upon."

"You don't seem like a refugee," Hawke said, joining the woman by the window. "You must have some reason to meet with me behind closed doors."

"I've come to sum up your worth," the woman said curtly. She gazed upon Hawke very much like the predator that Hawke's family was named after. "You are a pawn of war," the woman continued. She turned away from the window and approached a map that was pinned up on the wall at the far end of the room. Her fingers glided over the lines and shapes that formed the borders of Fereldan. "Warriors like us will always be needed."

The mention of war caused Hawke some concern and she felt a knot in her belly, instinctively wanting to protect something that no longer existed. "Do you know something we do not? Is there a danger coming to Kirkwall?"

It seemed to take quite a bit of willpower for the woman to tear her eyes away from the map. Hawke could very well understand the feeling of leaving a home behind, knowing that it was becoming corrupted and ravished by monsters and demons. "The danger that threatens your city is already within its walls, Hawke. I am merely your audience," the woman admitted. She was right to assume that Hawke would have treated her like a threat in a moment's notice.

"You speak of Meredith…" Hawke sighed. "She places everyone in a difficult situation, and I am in no position to completely stop her."

"Not yet," the woman said, and that same sad smile graced her lovely face. "My aim today was only to meet with you face to face. We will meet again, Serah Hawke. We are meant to." The woman held out her hand and Hawke accepted the show of comradery. There was a spark of energy that Hawke felt tickle her fingertips. She had a feeling that this woman was going to be a great ally in the future.

"May I have your name, messere?" Hawke asked when the woman pulled away. She reached back and pulled a hood over her brow, almost completely covering her eyes. Hawke saw the woman smile.

"You've perhaps heard of the family name Cousland… but you may call me Elissa, serah Hawke. Until we meet again." With that, the woman left Hawke and disappeared down the hallway.