A thousand thanks to the wonderful Mary for her beta, and thanks to all of you for reading, alerting, favouriting and reviewing.

~o~O~o~

Upon their return to the house, they were relieved to find a slightly tipsy Leandra, who was grateful to see them safely back. For a brief time, they engaged in polite conversation, which Fenris and Fletcher welcomed. It wasn't until she had turned in that an awkward silence fell over the room, which Fletcher did his best to fill with inane small-talk.

A short time later, Bethany arrived home, and, once again, a proper conversation started up. After informing Fletcher that Varric wanted to meet him in Hightown the following day, as Aveline wanted to see them, she made a tactful exit and also went to bed. The change in the atmosphere could be felt almost immediately, and, feeling weary, Fletcher decided that he, too, would retire for the night.

Would it ever get any easier for them, he wondered in dismay, as he went in search of blankets. Taking a deep breath, he plunged into the gulf. "Shall I–shall I sleep here on the settee as well?" He held his breath, waiting for an answer.

"Sleep where you wish; this is your home," was the elf's dignified reply, which did little to ease Hawke's mind, but it was something.

"Well, it's warm in here, and I wouldn't want to wake Uncle Gamlen…"

"Of course."

Nodding, Fletcher passed Fenris a blanket and took up his seat at the opposite end of the settee, covering himself with his own blanket.

"Goodnight then, Fenris."

"Goodnight, Hawke."

Eventually, fatigue overtook their troubled minds and both men fell asleep, together, yet apart.

~o~O~o~

The following morning was busy as it was bath day in the Hawke household. Gamlen had left early for his shift at the docks, and would bathe upon his return home; the usual routine was that Fletcher would make breakfast while Bethany and Leandra took their baths, before taking his own. Fletcher explained to Fenris that he and Bethany would prepare the baths with his sister creating ice, and him melting it and warming the water up, and offered Fenris the opportunity to step out while they were casting.

The elf thanked him for his consideration and took a walk around the slums. Several people bade him good morning, and, although he didn't know any of them, he politely replied in kind. After a while, he found himself standing on the steps to the Alienage, and once again he thought back to the night he and Fletcher had met. His reverie was broken when he heard the Dalish elf's voice ringing out above all the other elves who milled about preparing for market day at the Alienage; she was out of sight but he could hear her very clearly, rabbiting on about something with one of her neighbours. Although he'd promised to call on her later with Hawke, he wasn't quite ready for her at such an early hour, or without Hawke for that matter, and he turned and headed back to Gamlen's house.

When he arrived, breakfast and a freshly-drawn tub of cool water were waiting for him. He took breakfast with the family first, who had waited for his return.

Taking his seat next to Bethany, he waited until he was invited to help himself to toast and took one piece. Fletcher quickly added two to Fenris's plate and pushed the butter and jam toward him. "Get that down your neck," he instructed the elf.

"There is no need for politeness in the Hawke household," Leandra told him with a smile. "You must help yourself."

"But…this is not my home. I cannot just-"

"It is your home, for as long as you're staying here," Bethany replied, "and even when you're not."

"You are all very kind," the elf said modestly, spreading butter on his toast. "I'm very grateful for your hospitality. May I…pour the tea?" he offered.

"Please do," Leandra replied. As Fenris stirred the pot, Fletcher reached for the butter, only to be stopped by a sharp tap on the arm from his mother, who sat next to him.

"You're to have dry toast, dear."

"What?"

"You are still under Anders's care, and he said that you are to eat plain, bland foods for the next few days. I have full instructions."

"But I'm starving!" Fletcher whined. "Surely that's a sign I'm getting better? Just listen!" He paused, and, sure enough, the growl of his stomach could clearly be heard.

"Then you'll have two pieces," said his mother.

"But Fenris has three!"

"I did not ask for three," the elf replied calmly, a hint of mirth in his voice. "I would not manage three pieces."

"That's your problem, not mine," answered Fletcher, and a brief smile passed between the two men.

"Two," Leandra repeated, and Fletcher pouted but snatched up two pieces of toast, making a show of pulling a face as he chewed on the tasteless slabs of bread.

"So, what are you boys up to today?" Bethany asked as Fletcher affected a scowl, watching Fenris spread jam on his toast.

"Well, we're going to visit Merrill, if that's still all right?" he asked Fenris, who nodded. "Then we'll go and talk to Bartrand and see what Aveline wants me and Varric for."

"I should probably speak to Aveline as well," the elf added. "Oh…Donnic said he would call on me," he said to Leandra. "I am uncertain whether he will call here."

"I think that's what he meant," Hawke said, and his face fell a little. "I suppose I should call on Anders as well, but I'll do that later…is there anything else you'd like to do, Fen…ris?"

After thinking for a moment, the elf nodded. "There is something, yes, but I will discuss it with you on the way to the Alienage."

"Oh, all right, then," Fletcher replied lightly, but he wondered why Fenris wouldn't discuss it in front of his family.

After breakfast was cleared away, Fenris took his bath and emerged to find that Donnic had arrived, and that he was talking outside with Hawke. Fenris remained inside, not wanting to intrude in case they were having a private discussion. After a while, Hawke popped his head around the door and invited the elf outside.

"Morning, Fenris," Donnic said, offering the elf his hand.

"Good morning, Donnic. How…are you feeling this morning?" The elf glanced at Donnic's neck, which was now bruise-free, and guessed that the Keep's resident healer had attended to him.

"I'm fine, Fen. Did you have a good night?"

"Yes, thank you." Fenris glanced at Hawke and then returned his gaze toward Donnic, although he couldn't quite look him in the eye. "Hawke's family has made me feel very welcome."

"That's great; I knew they would. I spoke to Aveline, and she said she'll suspend your duties for the time being; she was expecting it anyway, what with the expedition coming up. She wants to see you at the barracks, though, at your earliest convenience. She has something for you. Oh, and she said to bring Hawke with you."

"Very clever," Hawke laughed. "She's after me and Varric. We're going there anyway, Don, at around midday. I wonder if it's about the safehouse?"

"Not for me to say," Donnic replied, unable to hide his grin. "Well, I'd best get going; if I'm late back at the barracks, those greedy bastards will have had all the sausages."

"Oh, don't," moaned Hawke, clutching his growling belly.

"On a diet, Hawke?" teased Donnic.

"The most boring bloody diet every devised," Hawke bleated, shooting a sour glance at Fenris, who was making a sterling effort not to smile. "Yes, you can gloat, after your strawberry jam on toast!"

"I was not gloating," claimed the elf quietly. "I was merely…frowning in sympathy."

Donnic burst out laughing, and Hawke folded his arms, his dancing eyes betraying his stony face.

"I'll miss you, Fen," Donnic chuckled. "Don't keep him too long on this expedition, eh, Hawke?" Donnic shook their hands. "I'll be in bed when you visit the barracks," he told them. "I know it won't be long before you set out on your big adventure, so make sure you come and say cheerio, all right?"

"We will," Hawke promised, and Fenris nodded his agreement. "Before you go…did you happen to see Anders last night? Was he all right?"

"Yes, I saw him briefly; he seemed okay. I think the clinic was fairly quiet last night. He was making up a load of potions; told me they were for the expedition. There was a young lady helping him."

"Oh, yes, Mallory. I suppose I'd better get some potions done myself," Hawke mumbled absently, and Fenris could see that his mind had wandered at the mention of Anders.

"Be seeing you, then." Donnic clapped them both on the arm and started down the steps. "Don't forget what I said, Fen; come and let me know when you're setting off."

"I will," answered the elf.

"You see, Fen? He's fine," said Hawke as the guardsman headed out of the slums. Fenris continued to watch Donnic without answering. "You ready to go, then?" Hawke asked, doing his best to keep his tone light.

"Yes, I am ready." Hawke could tell that Fenris felt awkward now it was just the two of them, and knew he'd have to do most of the work.

"We'll just pay Merrill a flying visit. I like to check on her now and again; I got into the habit when she first moved in, when she was on her own. She's made a lot of friends in the Alienage, now, though."

Met with a nod, he remembered that Fenris wanted to discuss something with him once they'd left the house. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh." Fenris blinked as though woken from a dream, and came to a halt at the foot of the steps. "Well, I have received a stipend for the few shifts I undertook with Donnic. It is a modest amount, as I am not a full guard, yet, but it is surplus to what I need. I was thinking…no. Perhaps it would be inappropriate."

"What would be inappropriate?"

"Well," Fenris clasped his hands together and glanced to his side, "your mother. She has…" He glanced down at his slippers, and then briefly at Hawke. "She has been very kind to me. I was wondering…well, I don't know what the custom is, but I would like to…" Fenris shrugged, his eyes moving to the ground.

"You don't have to get her anything in return, you know," Hawke said warmly, touched that Fenris would consider such a gesture. "She's just being a mum. She lives to look after people."

"I-I know, but still…I would like to show my appreciation, but I don't know what would be appropriate."

"Well, she always appreciates flowers."

Fenris shook his head. "Something that will last."

Hawke thought about that as they headed toward the Alienage. "She does like jewellery; she had to leave her gems behind when we fled Lothering, and Beth and I buy her the odd trinket when we can afford it. I'm not suggesting anything expensive, though; she likes anything tasteful and well-made."

"And would that be an appropriate gift?"

"Fenris, if you plucked a weed from a crack in the pavement and tied a ribbon around it, my mother would love it. In fact, she'd probably burst into tears because you'd thought of her."

A small snort escaped through Fenris's nose, and his mouth curved upward slightly. "If a weed would please your mother, would jewellery not be an ostentatious gift?"

"Not at all. Just leave it to me," Hawke assured him. "It's market day, and I'm sure we'll find something."

"Thank you." They walked on in silence for a while until they reached the Alienage, although Hawke noticed Fenris glancing at him occasionally. When they reached the steps, the elf looked ready to burst. "Did you…did you sleep well last night?" Fenris asked as they descended.

"I did," laughed Hawke. "Although I have been up for a couple of hours, you know."

"Yes, I…" Another snort came from the elf, and he shook his head, turning back to face the steps once they'd reached the bottom.

"There's no reason to be afraid of these steps, you know."

"I am not afraid of them. In fact, this is the second time I've found myself here today."

Hawke sat on the bottom step, and Fenris stood next to him, both watching the traders set up their stalls, and both waiting for the other to speak.

"I think of when we first met when I come here, you know," Hawke finally said. "That night…I was a different person, then."

"As was I," admitted Fenris, also taking a seat on the bottom step, a few feet away from Hawke. "I thought you were the spawn of evil."

Hawke laughed softly, his eyes still on the market vendors. "I probably gave you good reason to. I wasn't the nicest of people back then, and I thought you were a conceited arse. How wrong I was."

"We were both wrong."

Hawke shuffled slightly nearer Fenris and looked directly at him. "And what about now? Do you think I'm the spawn of evil all over again?" His voice was soft, with no accusation.

Fenris's head slowly turned toward Hawke, and their eyes met as Fenris seemed to think about his answer.

"Hellooo! Here for a few bargains, are you?"

Fenris's eyes closed, and both men got to their feet as Merrill arrived behind Fenris.

"Morning, Merrill," greeted Hawke. "Fancy coming shopping with us?"

"What are you going to buy?" asked Merrill excitedly. "Um…good morning, Fenris."

"Good morning."

"Well, we're after a gift for my mother, and we thought we'd see what else we could find."

"A gift? Oh, I love buying gifts! Is it her Naming Day, Hawke?"

"No, no particular occasion," answered Hawke, knowing by now that if Fenris wanted anyone to know anything, then Fenris would tell them. The elf's appreciative look at Hawke confirmed this. "I was thinking maybe jewellery?"

Merrill clasped her chin and tapped her index finger against her lips. "What colour are her eyes, Hawke?"

"Blue."

"Blue eyes, grey hair…I think something in silver or lilac," Merrill mused.

"Exactly!" Hawke enthused, snapping his fingers. "Cool colours with cool colours." His eyes wandered over to Fenris, who wore the fawn undertunic of the Guard along with black leggings.

"What?"

"You shouldn't be wearing that," Merrill said to her fellow elf. "It drains you, makes you look sallow."

"…Sallow?" Fenris's nose wrinkled slightly, and he looked morosely at Hawke.

"I don't know about sallow," Hawke said diplomatically, "but maybe something in…I don't know…"

"Pink," Merrill chipped in, completely oblivious to the sucking of air through Hawke's teeth and the impossibly dark scowl Fenris threw her way. "I know it's a sort of girly colour, but you don't care what people think, do you, Fenris? Not a rough and tough warrior like you. Ooh! Phraan's store is open! Come on, Fenris!" Merrill took the stupefied elf's hand in her own and dragged him over to one of the clothing stalls, leaving Fenris gaping back at Hawke, his expression that of a suffocating fish.

When Hawke had stopped laughing, he decided he'd better go and rescue Fenris, and walked over to the stall, the occasional snigger bursting forth as he reached them.

"I am not wearing that!" Fenris barked at the heedless mage as she held up a ghastly fuchsia-coloured chemise with purple piping.

"Uh, that's a bit fruity even for me," Hawke supplied, unconvincingly hiding his laughter behind a cough.

"But he always wears black, or that thing," Merrill protested, looking among Phraan's wares for something else. "He wants to brighten himself up a bit."

"And what makes you think you know what I want to do?" Fenris demanded, exasperated.

"How about this?" Hawke asked quietly, holding up a hip-length, fitted navy blue tunic with a white belt and white embroidery along the neckline and cuffs.

"No! That's too drab!" Merrill pulled a face and continued to sift through Phraan's gaudiest creations.

"It's not drab. It's smart, classy, and modest," Hawke answered, holding Fenris's gaze as he passed it to the elf. "And it's not black." Fenris took the top from him and examined it closely before draping it over his chest. "Do you like it?" Hawke asked him.

"I am not in need of new clothing."

"That's not what I asked." Hawke waved to attract Phraan's attention. "How much for this one, ser?"

The elven merchant walked over to them. "Sixty-five silver apiece for the ones on that table, messere, or two for a sovereign."

"Two, eh? Fenris, you pick the other one."

"I am not paying a sovereign for something I don't need," Fenris insisted.

"You're not paying; I am," Hawke answered.

"No-"

"If you argue, I'll let Merrill pick the other one," Hawke threatened with a glance at the Dalish elf, who had already lost interest and had moved on to the next stall. "Go on, say it. Something beginning with 'P'."

Fenris rolled his eyes, turning his head so Hawke wouldn't see he was on the verge of smiling. "It is hardly necessary to state that which is incontrovertible."

"Merrill will choose pink, you know," Hawke said loudly.

"I will not wear it."

"Then you'd better pick one that you will wear."

With a sigh, Fenris stepped over to the stall and cast a cursory glance over the wares on display. Phraan, the stallholder, watched Fenris for a moment and then pointed to the selection of red garments.

"If I might suggest, messere, perhaps a deep maroon; such a hue would look very striking with your colouring."

"Yes…yes!" Hawke stepped past Fenris and sorted out a few likely-looking shirts, presenting them to the elf.

"I do not wear colours."

"What do you call this, then?" asked Hawke, nudging Fenris's tunic. "And don't tell me it's part of your uniform. You're suspended, remember? Off duty? You're choosing to wear colours today."

Fenris folded his arms and raised a dark eyebrow. For a moment Hawke was tempted to call attention to it, but decided against it. The back-and-forth between them reminded Hawke of when he and Fenris had first started to develop feelings for each other, but were still wary. Was that what was happening now? Were they feeling each other out all over again?

"Choose one, or I'll choose," Hawke warned Fenris.

Pursing his lips, Fenris pointed to the least bright option, and Hawke handed it over to Phraan. While they waited for the goods to be wrapped, Hawke nodded in the direction of the undergarment section.

"Maybe you should purchase a few pairs of undies? Did you leave yours behind at the barracks?"

"I do not wear them," Fenris informed him impassively, his expression unchanged as Hawke's mouth flew open.

"Wha…honestly?"

"I find them too…confining. I wear a protective truss when battle is anticipated."

"And…what about today?" Hawke teased, only to be met with Fenris's neutral expression. "Um…sorry," mumbled Hawke, his eyes dropping to the ground.

"There is no need to apologise."

"Does that mean you'll answer my question?" Hawke asked hopefully.

"No," uttered the elf, turning his back on the smiling Hawke.

"That'll be a sovereign, messere." Hawke handed Phraan a sovereign in exchange for the wrapped parcel, and caught up with Fenris, who had wandered away from the stall. When Hawke reached him, the elf produced a sovereign.

"No, I told you; I'm paying," Hawke protested. "You're already buying something for Mother."

"There is no need to reciprocate. I will pay for them." Fenris attempted to press the coin into Hawke's palm, but the mage snatched his hand away.

"If there's no need to reciprocate, then why are you buying Mother a gift?"

Fenris shook his head. "That is different."

"No, it's not. Besides…I'm not buying them to reciprocate anything." He passed the parcel to Fenris, who eyed it warily. "Happy Naming Day, Fenris."

"But…I don't…I already told you, my naming day has passed."

"Sorry it's late."

"But…" Fenris carefully turned the parcel over in his hands, his confusion evident.

"Now you have to wear them, else I'll be offended," Hawke told him with a wink, before he turned and walked over to Merrill at the jewellery stand. Fenris watched him go, but didn't notice they were beckoning him over until Merrill shouted his name. He walked over to them, clutching his parcel as though it was a piece of glass that would shatter if he dropped it.

"Merrill's found something I think Mother would love. Look at this."

In his hand was a small, oval brooch, fashioned from silverite with a pale lavender-coloured stone at its centre. Fenris tilted his head, considering it. "What kind of stone is this?" he asked.

"Sundonium, mined from beneath Sundermount," answered Merrill.

"Reasonably priced now while it's plentiful," the stall vendor chipped in. "An investment for the future, messere. They reckon it'll run out in a few years' time; that's when it'll become valuable."

"She would like this?" Fenris asked Hawke, who nodded. Fenris then glanced at Merrill, who turned her attention back to the stall.

"What's wrong?" Hawke asked.

Fenris sighed. "I have never bought a gift for anyone before. It feels…strange. I would not know what to say when I present it to your mother. Are you certain this isn't too grand? Would she not think…I am not suggesting that she would be ungrateful." He sighed again. "I am not making any sense."

Hawke breathed in deeply as his stomach fluttered. He hated seeing Fenris so unsure of himself, and was certain that the events of the last couple of days had exacerbated the elf's already-precarious lack of self-confidence.

"Well…we could buy it together, if you wanted?"

"Together?"

"Just a thought," said Hawke. "That way, I could present it to Mother, and you wouldn't have to say anything. I'd make it clear it was from both of us, though. This isn't the sort of thing I'd usually buy for Mother, although I know she'll love it. I think she'll guess it's really from you."

Fenris's eyes moved to the side, and then to Hawke, and he nodded. "Yes. We will buy it together." A soft smile appeared and he held Hawke's gaze for a moment. "Thank you."

Hawke smiled back. "It's Merrill you ought to be thanking. She found the brooch."

Fenris's shoulders stiffened and a grim look tightened his face as he slowly walked over to Merrill, his movements rigid but dignified, like he was walking to his own execution. Hawke clapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he watched the discourse between the two elves: a few curt nods and mumbled utterances from Fenris, and a few slaps to the arm and giggles from Merrill, plus a fair amount of bouncing.

Feeling as though his smile would never leave him, Hawke approached the vendor and haggled a fair price for the brooch, which he and Fenris paid for between them. After perusing a few more stalls, and waiting very patiently while Merrill agonised over choosing a new scarf, eventually settling on another green one, Fenris and Hawke took their leave.

"Thanks for the advice, Merrill," Hawke said warmly as they stood next to the Vhenadahl.

"Oh, you're welcome. Not that you took it. Um, my advice. About the top, I mean."

"Well, the second top was sort of pink," Hawke whispered to her, "just a very, very dark pink. But don't tell Fenris that. And you found the perfect brooch."

Merrill jumped on the spot and grinned, delighted that she'd been helpful, and wrapped her arms around Hawke, who returned her hug. "It's nice to see you two back together, Hawke. Well, sort of. But at least you're talking; that's what's important. Just keep talking, and you'll get there in the end."

Hawke pulled back and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll come and see you before we enter the Deep Roads," he promised, and joined Fenris, who stood at the foot of the steps.

"You'd better!" she called after him. "Glad you liked the brooch, Fenris!"

Fenris nodded and forced an awkward smile. If she'd been standing closer, he might have thanked her again, but he wasn't about to shout it across the Alienage.

As they left, Hawke noticed that Fenris was still hanging onto his parcel like grim death. "You liked that navy tunic, didn't you? I could tell. I think it'll really suit you. If you like, we could stop by at home and you could change into it."

"That will not be necessary, but thank you," Fenris replied, his eyes fixed ahead.

"Sorry. I'm being a pain in the arse, aren't I?"

Fenris stopped and frowned at the ground. "It's not that…I…just don't understand what I've done to merit this."

"Well, nothing, really, but it's a belated naming day gift. I can understand it being a bit strange for you, not having celebrated it before." A sly glint came into Hawke's eyes, and he lowered his voice. "I'll let you into a secret. Do you remember when my naming day is?"

"I do. 13 Drakonis; next month."

"Well, then."

Fenris's frown deepened, and he looked up at Hawke. "Are you…after a gift for your own naming day?"

"That's how it works," said Hawke through a laugh. "We only buy gifts because we want one in return."

"That is not commensurate with what I know of you so far. Your attempt to extinguish the candle is commensurate, however."

"'Extinguish the candle'? Is that the same as pulling the wool over one's eyes?"

"Perhaps. I prefer 'extinguish the candle'," answered the elf, walking ahead with Hawke's laughter following him.

To Hawke's utter delight, their conversation as they headed for Hightown was notably less stilted than it had been of late, although there was absolutely no flirting or physical contact, and Fenris retained his neutral expression throughout. Still, Hawke's heart soared at every dry remark the elf made, and his heart thumped as they stood at the top of Hightown's steps, although that was probably because Hawke was out of breath. At the sight of the food stalls at the top of the steps, Hawke sniffed the air and began salivating.

"Would you tell Mother if I had some pork ribs for lunch?"

"Yes."

"What if I bought you some?"

Fenris folded his arms and shook his head sternly.

With a loud tut, Hawke walked across the town square to where he could see Varric and Bartrand bickering over something. "Varric will show some sympathy for my plight," he said, just loudly enough for Fenris to hear, before he stopped and allowed the elf to catch up. "Um…you haven't met Bartrand yet, have you?"

"No. You once told me that he is nothing like Varric."

"He's a bit…abrasive, just to warn you."

"I understand. I have dealt with his kind before."

I'm sure you have, Hawke thought as he walked alongside the elf. When Varric spotted them, he did a double take at Fenris, and a bland smile settled over his face, secretly tickled to see the two of them together.

"Ah! Here they are. Bartrand, allow me to introduce you to Br…uh, Fenris."

"So, Twinkletoes is back, huh?" Bartrand backed away from Hawke and eyed Fenris with disdain, then turned away to bark a quick order at one of his men before turning back. "An elf with a sword?" he scoffed. "You certain you can hold that thing, Tubby?"

Fenris removed his sword from his back, his expression frosty as he approached Bartrand, wielding the giant blade with one hand. "As you can see, Dwarf, I am quite certain I can hold it. Perhaps a demonstration would be in order? You are just the right height."

"The right height for what?" Bartrand asked, his voice hesitant.

"Why, for cleaving your head from your shoulders, of course," said the elf calmly, having no qualms about intimidating anyone who had been abrasive with Hawke, or had called him Twinkletoes, for that matter.

"Uh, that won't be necessary," Bartrand insisted, holding his palms up. "Now, what do you want?" he snapped at Hawke.

"Forgive me," Fenris interrupted, passing his parcel to Hawke and taking a further step closer to Bartrand. "I will not have my sword skills called into question. To set your mind at ease, I must demonstrate."

"No, wait…what do-" Before Bartrand completed his sentence, a whoosh was heard, and steel glinted in the sun as it arced above the dwarf's head. Bartrand stumbled back, his hands on his neck, making sure his head was still attached to it. Fenris calmly bent down and picked something off the ground. Taking one of Bartrand's hands, he dropped a few strands of neatly-sliced hair onto his furry palm.

"I believe these belong to you." He sheathed his sword and turned toward Varric and Hawke, who had their backs to him. A strange screeching noise was emanating from one of them, but he couldn't tell from whom.

When they eventually turned to face him, Varric's face was calm, if rather pink; Hawke, however, could barely speak and looked about to burst into tears, or laughter.

"I will leave you to discuss business," the elf announced, "while I call on Guard-Captain Vallen. I will await you at the barracks."

"Sure, Elf," Varric replied, shaking his hand. As Fenris departed, he nodded at Hawke, who could only tremble in reply.

"Will-will he be going on the expedition?" Bartrand shouted, but only once the elf was out of earshot.

"You betcha," Varric answered, as Hawke was still unable to form cogent sentences. "Impressive, isn't he? Now, let's do what the elf said and discuss business."

~o~O~o~

Fenris's own business with Aveline was concluded quickly, and he waited around at the barracks, where he chatted with the guards who were coming off duty or were just starting their shift. He had a long wait, as there were many final preparations for the expedition investors to make, as well as many squabbles to sort out, most of them of Bartrand's making. During a quiet moment, Fenris sat on a small bench near Aveline's office, reflecting on his so-far brief stint in the Kirkwall Guard.

He felt at home, here. He liked being a guard, and was eager for the expedition to be over so he could resume his duties. He had Donnic and Hawke to thank for his new-found sense of purpose and usefulness; yet another thing Hawke had done for him, given him.

What had he done for Hawke in return?

He knew Hawke didn't think that way, but several times during the morning he'd wanted to do something for Hawke, but, yet again, he'd failed to arrive at an answer, a solution. When Hawke had gifted Fenris with clothing, he hadn't known how to feel as he'd never before received a naming day gift, but he'd immediately resolved to find a gift for Hawke's own naming day. He would have to do it soon, as it was unlikely they'd be out of the Deep Roads before 13 Drakonis.

He knew in his heart, though, what Hawke really wanted from him, but when Fenris turned his thoughts to rekindling their romance, he felt numb and weary; he was neither ready nor willing to deal with that, yet, but he also knew that he couldn't string Hawke along. If he no longer felt able to continue with their relationship as it had been, he knew he had to tell Hawke.

The problem was, he did want to continue; more than anything. There were more reasons to do that than Fenris could count.

There was still one reason not to. But Fenris knew he was the only one allowing that reason to eclipse all others.

~o~O~o~

When Hawke and Varric finally arrived at the barracks, they took Fenris by surprise, as he'd been sitting, daydreaming, outside Aveline's office. After apologising for making him jump, and for keeping him waiting, Hawke stepped back, his mouth agape, as Fenris stood up, looking unusually pleased with himself.

"Your cuirass! They finished it?" Hawke exclaimed as Fenris raised his arms from his sides, allowing Hawke and Varric a better look.

"That's nice, Elf; real nice," Varric complimented. "You can tell a lot of work's gone into that."

"I am pleased to see someone appreciates good craftsmanship," Fenris said with a sly glance at Hawke, who grinned back.

"It looks really graceful, Fenris; not heavy or clunky at all," opined the mage.

Fenris nodded with satisfaction. "Guard-Captain Vallen said that I could break it in while in the Deep Roads…although any dints sustained will have to be hammered out at my own expense."

"That sounds like our Aveline!" laughed Hawke.

Varric glanced toward Aveline's office and quirked an eyebrow. "Sounds like she's in a good mood, Hawke. Why don't you two run along and let me take care of this?"

"Are you sure, Varric?"

"Sure I'm sure. Besides, you're still under doctor's orders. You'd better get home to your mashed potatoes."

"This is a bloody conspiracy," moaned Hawke. "You're both determined for my stomach to die of boredom, aren't you?"

"Up to you, Hawke; either you get chewed out by Carrot-Features, or you go home and chew on something soft. And, let's face it, you just don't have the charm it takes to do the former; unlike yours truly," he smiled.

"I've never been so happy to be insulted," replied Hawke. "Fenris? Would you like to go back now?"

"What…did you just refer to Guard-Captain Vallen as?" Fenris asked Varric.

"Hey, who said anything about Guard-Captain Vallen? I was talking about Aveline. See you guys later at the Hanged Man?"

"He is not allowed to drink alcohol for the time being," Fenris piped up. "I clearly recall his mother saying so earlier." Noticing Hawke folding his arms from the corner of his eye, he grinned. "I believe I have outstayed my welcome."

With a nod to Varric, Fenris ascended the stairs to the main Keep, while Hawke lurked for a minute. "We will see you later," he murmured to the dwarf. "Any chance of slipping a little something into my ginger ale?"

"I heard that," said a stern voice from the top of the stairs.

"Bugger!"

"He's an elf, Hawke; bigger ears."

Shaking his head, Hawke trudged up the stairs, hearing Varric's rap against the office door. He made his best effort to ignore Fenris on the way out of the Keep, but a rush of laughter betrayed him before they reached the doors.

~o~O~o~

When they arrived back at Gamlen's house, no one was home. "They're probably out shopping," Hawke said, heading straight for the kitchen, followed by the elf. "Here to assist, or to keep an eye on me?" he asked Fenris, who shrugged his shoulders and filled the kettle.

After going through several items of food in the kitchen, Fenris finally approved vegetable soup and bread, which, after some moaning from Hawke, was warmed up and served on the dining table.

"You going to try on your new clothes?" Hawke asked Fenris as they ate. "You can go in my room, if you like. I promise not to peek."

"Perhaps later," smiled the elf, reaching for the parcel and turning it over in his hands. "Thank you for this. My first ever naming day present."

"You can thank me by wearing them. I know you definitely like the navy one."

"I like both of them," the elf answered immediately. "But…I am unaccustomed to wearing colours in public."

"Hm. Maybe I shouldn't have gone for red," Hawke mused. "You're not a man who seeks attention. Sorry, Fenris; my bad. Maybe I could wear it; what do you think? May I borrow it?"

"I think it optimistic to believe you would fit into an elf-sized tunic, even with your recent weight loss," Fenris remarked amusedly.

"I'll have a go at anything; you know me," Hawke challenged.

"You would tear it." Fenris smiled at the parcel and stood up. "May I use your room?"

"By all means. Need any assistance with the cuirass?"

Ignoring Hawke's cheeky question, Fenris shook his head and entered the bedroom with the parcel, emerging a short time later wearing the maroon tunic, and looking decidedly self-conscious. "What do you think?" he asked Hawke, who rose from the table, a soft light in his eyes.

"You look…" He cleared his throat and sighed. "It does look very striking. Colours suit you, Fenris. Red really…makes your eyes look bright." He cleared his throat again and started to clear the dishes away.

"Please, let me assist," offered the elf.

"Thank you. You don't have to wear that, you know. If you feel awkward in it, I'd rather you didn't. I won't be offended at all."

"I…do like it. I will wear it indoors…for now, until I become used to it."

A brief smile was exchanged, and they washed up the dishes amid a comfortable silence. Taking a fresh pot of tea through to the living room, they sat at the table again, and Fenris noticed that Hawke looked uncomfortable in his seat.

"Is all well, Hawke?"

Hawke stood up and covered his mouth with his hand, appearing to be deep in thought. "Just a minute," he mumbled before disappearing into the bedroom.

He re-emerged carrying two very old, dog-eared books, and looking very bashful indeed. Intrigued, Fenris watched him until he sat back down in the chair opposite.

"I, um, my dad gave me these books when I was little," he began, pushing them across the table toward the elf. "I thought you might find them useful; they're no good to me, now."

Fenris opened one of the books and smiled a little at an illustration of duck. "You would lend me these?"

"No…I want you to have them."

"I-I cannot keep them, Hawke; if your father gave them to you…"

"I have plenty more. What good are children's books to me, anyway? You'd get more out of them than I would."

Fenris stared at the books and considered Hawke's offer for a few minutes. "No. I will not keep them. The books are no use to me without a teacher, anyway."

"Well, I just thought that if you wanted to find another teacher, then you could use them," Hawke babbled.

"I do not want another teacher," the elf said quietly. "I would appreciate a reading lesson, though, Hawke; I have mi…I have not had one for a while. If…you would be willing?"

"Oh." Hawke blinked and bit his lip to stop an idiotic grin. "Well, would you like one now?"

"Yes, I would like that."

"Um, well, I'd have to sit next to you. Would that be all right?"

Without a word, Fenris stood and moved to the chair to his right, leaving the other chair pulled out.

His grin breaking through, Hawke got up and sat down next to Fenris. "Which book would you like to start with?" he asked as he poured the tea.

"Which would you recommend?"

"Um…I think you'd like the farmyard animal one, but it's up to you."

"Farmyard animals it is, then."

Passing Fenris his tea, Hawke opened the book and the reading lesson began.