Hawke's eyes opened to blackness. Not the blackness of night, whereupon, once one's eyes had adjusted to the gloom, vague outlines and shapes would at least be faintly discernible, but here, there was a vast, impenetrable nothing. A creeping, hermetic blackness that chilled his blood and seeped into his very bones…

Hawke clawed at his eyes, thrashing around in panic. "Help! Maker help me! I've gone blind!"

He stopped flailing as his fingers made contact with something crusty. And a bit oozy. "Oh, crap, my eyelids are stuck together. That would explain it, then."

He slumped in relief and began plucking chunks of sleep away from his eyelashes. He shifted, and the blackness turned to redness as he felt warmth fall across his face.

Where was he? Wherever it was, he wanted to stay there; it was warm and soft and smelled of…a huge, languid smile stretched his mouth. Wherever he was, it smelled of Fenris. Fenris without the garlic, that was.

He reluctantly opened his eyes, quickly closing them again as the morning sun stabbed into them. He placed his hand over them and opened them again. He was lying down on the settee at the mansion, his boots sitting on the floor.

"I don't remember taking them off," he mumbled, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. He pushed himself up a little and yawned.

"Fenris? Are you about?" he called out, his husky voice scratching the back of his throat, causing him to cough, which quickly turned into a hacking bark. He did his best to suppress it as it wasn't the most attractive of sounds.

"Fenris?"

His voice echoed around the reception hall and then fell dead. Hawke knitted his brows together and concentrated as best he could. Where would Fenris be? Didn't he mention that he had to go to the barracks this morning? Or was that yesterday?

Glancing to his side, he noticed that a sandwich and a large glass of water had been left for him on the small table next to the settee. The sight of the sandwich awoke something savage within him and he snatched it, cramming it into his mouth. Anything to take the taste of garbage away.

Garbage? Had he been…? Oh, yes! Of course, he'd been drinking. He sat back and recalled the fun evening he'd had with Anders, especially the look on Anders's face when he'd realised where they were. As Hawke replayed the night's events in his mind, his memories became fuzzier and fuzzier the later into the evening he went.

Frowning as he took a sip of water, he vaguely remembered…a guard? He then recalled a blurry walk back to Hightown with Anders. And then…he'd called at the mansion, where Fenris hadn't been angry with him.

"Thank the Maker for that!" He gulped down the rest of the water and slowly stood up, noting with relief that, although he had a headache, it wasn't too bad.

Gathering his glass and plate, he trudged towards the kitchen, a faint ditty playing in the back of his mind. Hawke hummed along to it; it was a love song that was well-known in southern Ferelden, and he was pleased that he still remembered some of the words.

"You're beautiful…" he sang, and then stopped dead.

Uh-oh.

He hadn't…no, he wouldn't have…sung it…to Fenris?

Hawke's eyes widened into perfect circles, and his mouth followed closely behind. "You didn't…oh! You did! Come on, brain, help me out, here!"

His brain duly complied and the image of a laughing Fenris was brought to the forefront of his mind. Good! Good. Fenris had laughed. He may have been a little embarrassed, but a laugh was good. Better than a punch. Or having his heart ripped out.

Somewhat relieved, Hawke continued into the kitchen and stood next to the sink. So, what else had happened the night before?

Calling on his brain again, Hawke fervently hoped he hadn't done anything else to show himself up in front of Fenris, like being sick or doing something he wouldn't normally do when sober. He tried in vain to remember taking his boots off, lying down on the settee and covering himself with blankets. When had that happened? How had he gotten to sleep?

The clatter of the glass and plate as they crashed into each other on their way down into the sink startled Hawke into near-sobriety. "What, what, what? What did you do that for? Oh, Maker…now he knows…actually, he probably got an inkling when you sang to him, you bloody fool! Crap! No wonder he's disappeared!"

A spike of panic drove into his belly and he suddenly felt very hot. And sick. He rushed to the rear door of the kitchen and turned the key, stumbling out into the rear courtyard, gasping for fresh air. "I'm not going to be sick. I'm not. Wait…" A cool breeze tickled his clammy skin. "Wait…it's not that bad. You didn't wake up with a hole in your chest. He left a sandwich for you; he didn't have to do that, did he? He took your boots off…he didn't take your robe off, but you can't have everything. It's fine. I can-I can save this. Erm…"

He clasped his chin, stroking his beard, which felt greasy. "Right…bath first, and then I just need an excuse to visit the barracks without him thinking I'm some drooling stalker. Wait…Anders will be there! No…that's not good enough…he's a grown man and doesn't need me to collect him. Come on, brain: just help me one more time and I'll never bother you again."

His eyes wandered over to the compost heap on the far side of the courtyard, where he spied a few pieces of lemon peel and some discarded nettles.

Hawke gasped. "Of course! I'm a genius! Thanks, brain!" He grinned and gave his head a pat, and then his heart sank when he remembered exactly why he was going to the barracks. The spike of panic in his belly twisted like a knife.

"Bath, first. One thing at a time. It's going to be fine," Hawke reassured himself, not in the least bit convinced, and headed for the scullery to take his bath.

~o~O~o~

Donnic cleared his throat for the second time and folded his hands behind his back, straightening his posture. If she didn't say something soon, by the Maker, he was going to strangle her.

"Yes, Guardsman?" Aveline asked apathetically, not even bothering to look up from her paperwork.

"Guard-Captain Vallen," he began formally. "I am here to submit myself to the disciplinary process of the Kirkwall Guard."

Aveline's quill stopped on the parchment, and a small blot began to form. "Blast it!" she uttered, throwing the quill into the inkwell. She looked up at Donnic, who stood in front of her desk. "What? What did you say?"

Donnic took a deep breath and cleared his throat for the third time. "The way I spoke to you yesterday…it wasn't right. I overstepped the bounds of my authority. Erm…your authority, I mean. I, um…" Realising that he'd brought his hands to his front, and was toying with his gauntlets, he immediately placed them behind his back again. "I had this all prepared. What I was going to say, I mean. It's not really going as I'd planned."

Aveline sat back in her chair and fixed Donnic with her 'stern captain' look. "And?" she asked, hoping the edges of her mouth were pointing downwards.

"And…may I speak candidly, guard-captain?"

"You didn't feel the need to ask me that yesterday."

"I'm asking now."

She folded her arms, again reminding her face to remain stern. "By all means."

"The thing is, I sort of expected you to welcome Fenris into the Guard with open arms. When you didn't, I reacted strongly because I thought you were being unreasonable. It didn't occur to me that you have a job to do, and part of that job is protecting us lot. I should have considered that, but I didn't, and that was wrong of me. I would have said anything to get Fenris into the Guard. What I did say was unworthy of both of us. I'm sorry, Av…guard-captain."

"Right."

"What I said about you being callous…that's not true. You're tough, but you're also fair. And you're certainly not a coward; in fact, you're one of the bravest people I've ever met. I, um, I had no right to act the way I did, and I expect to be suitably punished."

"Right," Aveline repeated, unable to come up with anything cleverer than that. She frowned, and began rifling through some of her papers. Placing a small stack in front of her, she ventured a glance up at Donnic and, noticing that he'd broken out in a sweat, again reminded herself not to smile. Tough, that was what he'd just called her. Tough, but fair.

"One month's night duty in Darktown, starting tomorrow," she told him, and saw him once again correct his posture. "Dismissed."

"Yes, Guard-Captain," he said with a stiff bow. "Thank you." He turned and walked towards the door.

"And take Fenris with you," she added as he opened the door. "It'll be a good education for him."

Donnic turned back, barely managing to keep the smile that threatened to burst his face contained. "As you command, Guard-Captain," he finished, and, with another bow, exited the office and closed the door.

"Well, you look like the cat that got the cream!" a familiar voice greeted him.

"Hawke! What brings you here?" asked Donnic, reaching for the mage's hand. "Come to check on Anders?"

"Ah…you heard about that, then?"

"I heard that the two of you were escorted from an…establishment last night, yes," Donnic replied, his mouth twitching with mirth.

"It was just a misunderstanding," Hawke mumbled sheepishly, and Donnic laughed. "Is Anders still here?"

"No, he was turfed out at first light. He went back to Darktown to sleep off his hangover. I must say, you look quite chipper this morning, Hawke. Drinking and getting thrown out of pubs obviously agrees with you: your face is positively glowing."

Hawke didn't mention that the fact his face was glowing was due to his heart and nervous system working at twice their normal rate. "I don't suppose Fenris is here this morning, is he?" he asked casually.

"Why, yes; he was here first thing. He's teaching some of the younger recruits a few moves. I can't tell you how excited we all are to have him among us. We're the first regiment in the Free Marches to have an elf in our ranks, you know, and with skills like his, I can see him rising pretty quickly."

"That's great," Hawke said with a bright smile, before the spike of panic he'd been carrying around once again made its presence known.

"Do you want me to fetch him for you?" asked Donnic.

"Erm, no. I-I don't want to disturb him. I just brought his medicine; for his foot, you know? He, erm…forgot it this morning." He held up a small waterskin.

"I can pass that onto him if you like," Donnic offered.

"Oh, thanks," replied Hawke, and both men made way as a large group of sweaty men, and a few women, spilled into the barracks.

"Here he is now, Hawke," said Donnic, and for a second Hawke wondered if he could lose himself among the crowd of recruits and sneak out. Too late, his heart stopped as the crowd parted and a pair of large green eyes bored into him. Fenris didn't look displeased to see him, but neither did he look pleased. He looked neutral. Hawke couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or not.

"You have a visitor, Fenris," Donnic declared, and the elf stepped forward, not taking his eyes off Hawke.

"So I see," he said in a perfectly neutral tone.

"I, uh, was just passing by," Hawke stammered. "You-you forgot this." He held the water skin up and Fenris frowned. "Your medicine," Hawke explained.

Fenris's frown melted away and once again the neutral expression settled over his features. "Oh. That was thoughtful of you," he said with a nod, taking the water skin from Hawke.

"I'll, erm, I'll be going, then," Hawke mumbled, feeling as though his heart had expanded to fill the whole of his torso as both it and his stomach thudded in tandem.

"One moment," said Fenris, who walked over to Donnic and said something that Hawke couldn't hear.

Donnic pointed to a door at the far end of the room. "Use my quarters if you like; there's no one sleeping in there at the moment," he told the elf. "I need to speak to you afterwards; we've been given an assignment together," he said with a grin.

"That is good to hear," Fenris replied, and walked towards the room, casting a backward glance at Hawke as he opened the door.

"I think he wants you to go in," Donnic informed Hawke.

"Oh…Oh, yes, erm, all right." Hawke's feet somehow carried him forward to Donnic's quarters, and he took a deep breath before he entered.

"Close the door," Fenris said. Hawke's hands, seemingly under the control of someone else, pushed the door shut.

"How are you feeling, Hawke?" Fenris asked from across the room.

A nervous bloody wreck, thank you very much. "Oh, fine. Thanks for asking. Erm…sorry I wasn't up in time to make your medicine. I hope you didn't mind me bringing it to you."

"I did not want to wake you. I am grateful you brought this to me."

Hawke nodded and released a shaky breath, taking a few cautious steps closer to the elf. "Fenris…erm, about last night…"

"There is no need to explain, Hawke. You were intoxicated. We all do things under the influence of alcohol that we would not normally do." His voice and posture were stiff and formal, and it occurred to Hawke for a moment that he almost sounded offended.

"Wait…you think…you think I…kissed you because I was drunk?"

"Well, you were, weren't you?"

"Y-yes, I was, but…" Hawke pushed out another breath and ran his hand through his hair. "You think I needed to be drunk to want to kiss you?"

A slight chink appeared in Fenris's mask of neutrality. His eyes fell to the floor and he gave no reply.

"You think I came here to tell you that I'd made a mistake?" Hawke asked, not knowing where his surge of courage had suddenly come from, but he was going to make the most of it while it was here. "Fenris, can't you see what's right under your nose? How much more obvious do I have to be?"

Fenris's mask slipped completely, and his brow furrowed as Hawke took a further step closer.

"Do I look drunk to you now, Fenris?"

"What?" Fenris's eyes darted from side to side and he shifted his weight, but didn't back away.

Hawke took one more step closer, bringing him less than a foot away from Fenris. "Do I look drunk now?" he repeated.

Fenris's mouth fell open slightly, and, after a pause, he slowly shook his head.

"So, let's say if I kissed you again, while I was sober, would you think that was a mistake?"

Fenris's eyes stopped moving and settled on Hawke's chest. He shook his head again and Hawke noticed the rise of his shoulders that accompanied his sharp intake of breath.

Without another word, Hawke gently rested his hands on Fenris's shoulders and bent forward, placing the softest of kisses again his lips. He let them rest there for a few seconds, and, although Fenris did not move his own lips, Hawke felt the elf's eyelashes tickle his cheeks as his eyes closed.

As Hawke slowly pulled away, the pounding he'd felt in his chest and stomach had now also manifested itself in his head, throat and arms. He removed his hands from Fenris's shoulders, his breathing matching the fluttering in his chest.

"Well, Fenris? Was that…all right?"

For a moment, Fenris didn't speak. Hawke had never felt so excited and terrified in his entire life.

"Was what all right?" asked the elf quietly.

"E-eh? I meant…I…" Hawke's eyes narrowed and he affected a scowl. "Is this elven humour, or something?"

As one edge of Fenris's mouth turned upward, everything that was and had ever been in Hawke's life instantly became right and wonderful.

Although Fenris's eyes were still fixed on Hawke's chest, Hawke knew that they were full of mischief. "Do I need to jog your memory?" asked the mage softly, moving his head closer to Fenris's.

"That would be appreciated, Hawke." The elf's lips spread into a shy smile, and his face flushed.

As Hawke's lips once again brushed against Fenris's, it occurred to him that the elf was not an experienced kisser. He took Fenris's hands and placed them on his own waist, Hawke's hands moving upwards, one hand tangling through Fenris's hair, which was damp with sweat. With the other, he placed a finger against Fenris's lower lip and gently pushed it down, taking it into his own mouth and softly tugging on it.

Encouraged by the shudder that vibrated against him, Hawke deepened the kiss and felt Fenris's arms wrap around him, slowly and tentatively searching out the contours of his back. Feeling Fenris's lips part of their own accord, a fire ignited and raged through Hawke's core and he pressed his body hard against Fenris's, moaning as he devoured the elf's lips.

Then, Fenris quickly pulled away, panting.

"I-I'm sorry," Hawke gasped, taking a step backward. "I'm sorry, Fenris; I got carried away."

"No, it's-it's fine," said Fenris quietly, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"No, it's not fine." Hawke had a feeling that that was the first time Fenris had been kissed, or, at least the first time he could remember. "I-I didn't intend to turn into an animal, Fenris; I'm sorry."

Fenris bit his bottom lip and laughed softly. "You are hardly an animal, Hawke. Do not trouble yourself. It was…" He tilted his head and his eyes briefly locked with Hawke's before he averted them. "…nice."

"Oh. Well, that's…good, then." Hawke also bit his lip and for a moment, neither man spoke.

"I should go, Hawke," Fenris said after a few moments. "People will talk."

Hawke looked up and his belly fluttered at the mischievous smile that met him. "Let them," he breathed.

A brilliant flash of white teeth accompanied Fenris's laugh, and Hawke felt like hugging him and sweeping him off his feet.

"Yes, erm, I-I'll be making tracks," Hawke stuttered.

"I will be finished here shortly," Fenris told him. "Where will you be?"

"Oh, I'm going to pay Anders a quick visit, and then I'll probably be at The Hanged Man. Varric and I are going to discuss some ways to come up with more funds for the expedition."

"Well, I hope you are not considering anything illegal," Fenris said sternly, crossing his arms. "I am a guard of the city now, you know."

"Erm, Fenris…why do you think I was so desperate for you to join the Guard in the first place?" Hawke teased. "We need a bent guard in our little group to cover up our more unsavoury activities."

Fenris's slender shoulders shook and he threw his head back and guffawed. Tears momentarily sprung to Hawke's eyes at such a wonderful sight before he quickly dissolved into laughter.

The two men once again stood in silence, the occasional quiet snigger bursting forth.

"I'll be off, then," Hawke said.

"That is the third time you've said that, and yet, you remain here," Fenris observed with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Hawke nodded and moved over to the door, making sure he put some distance between them before he spoke. "You're right…I shouldn't keep you. See you later…Fen-Fen."

"I told you never to c…" Fenris's words were cut off as Hawke slammed the door and scampered out of the Keep.

~o~O~o~

Hawke sailed through Hightown, humming softly to himself and bidding everyone he passed a good morning, whether he knew them or not. He had to hold himself back from hugging the few passers-by he did know. His steps were light, and his spirits, soaring. His belly, which had been in a tight knot for most of the morning, still fluttered, but it was a good kind of fluttering. If it hadn't been for the guard presence along his route, he probably would have burst into song, but he knew he'd had a lucky escape last night, and didn't want to be thrown in the cells for being drunk when he wasn't drunk.

He called on Anders at the clinic, who immediately guessed that something had happened because of the shit-eating grin that his friend wore.

"So…get lucky last night, did you, Hawke?" he asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"I've always been lucky, Anders," Hawke answered, and gave Anders a bear-hug, lifting him off the ground.

"Put me down!" Anders protested, and Hawke complied. "I don't want any jealous boyfriends coming in here, sorting me out!"

"Boyfriend," Hawke repeated, and snickered. "That sounds weird. I wonder what Fenris would make of that?"

"So…did you?" Anders asked again.

"No! We just…kissed," he said with a dopey grin.

Anders smiled, and Hawke could see that it was genuine. "Well, it's nice to see you so happy, Hawke. I hope you get on all right."

"Come 'ere, you!" Hawke grabbed Anders's cheeks and kissed him firmly on the forehead. "I love ya!" he chirped, throwing an arm around Anders's shoulders. "Fancy some lunch? On me."

Hawke's happiness was infectious, and Anders laughed, nodding. "You bet. Not at The White Swallow, though, eh?"

"I don't think we'll be welcome back there, somehow," Hawke guessed with a shrug. "I said I'd meet Varric there; we're going to discuss some money-making ventures, if you're interested. Fenris will also be joining us, later on."

Anders nodded. "I'll be good," he promised.

Hawke tightened his grip on Anders's shoulders. "I'm so glad things are all right again between us, Anders. I've missed you, friend."

"Me too," Anders replied, smiling brightly, no longer feeling as isolated and troubled as he had for the last few days. "Tell you what, I'll get the first round this time, eh?"

"Too bloody right you will," Hawke laughed, and the two friends left the clinic with their arms around each other.

~o~O~o~

After a pleasant lunch with Varric and Bethany, Fenris joined them, and the four discussed various ways – legal ways – to boost the expedition's coffers. Although Fenris and Anders didn't really speak to each other, they were on their best behaviour and, to Hawke's pleasure, they didn't argue, either.

Just before six bells, Hawke remembered that Fenris's next dose of medicine was due, and they bid farewell to their friends. Anders stayed behind, having been invited to Varric's card game.

As they left the pub, Fenris and Hawke discussed the elf's appointment in the Guard.

"My armour will be ready in a few days' time, and I will be able to move into the barracks," Fenris told Hawke.

"You know, it's a pity," Hawke began. "I mean, I'm glad you'll be safe at the barracks, but…I'll kind of miss the settee."

"Take it, if you wish," Fenris offered.

"I won't just miss the settee, and you know it," Hawke teased.

"We'll think of something," Fenris promised him, and they smiled at each other.

"You haven't had a reading lesson, yet," said Hawke. "How about we have it when we get back?"

"It will be dark, soon," Fenris reminded him, pointing in the direction of the setting sun.

"That's all right; we can get some candles going, grab a bottle of wine, and cosy up on the settee with a book. What do you think?"

Fenris glanced sideways at Hawke and smiled warmly. "I would enjoy that, Hawke."

As they slowly progressed through Lowtown, the streets became emptier as the sun began to set. In the distance, they heard the bells of the chantry toll six times.

"The Guard is changing over," Fenris stated, drawing his sword. "I'm just being cautious," he explained quietly. "The number of guards in town is at its lowest during changeover." He increased his pace and walked ahead of Hawke, indicating for him to fall back.

After they'd walked a short distance, Fenris held up a hand for Hawke to stop, and then pressed a finger against his lips, beckoning for Hawke to come closer. Fenris pointed towards an alleyway, where a group of men were heading around a corner with a lone female dressed in chantry robes.

"What's she playing at?" Hawke whispered.

"She will be robbed, if she is lucky," Fenris whispered back. "Come."

Hawke groaned, annoyed that an idiotic woman was going to ruin his romantic plans for the evening.

"We will still have time for the reading lesson, Hawke," Fenris smiled.

"We'd better." He readied his staff, and they quietly walked forward towards the alley.