Thank you to everyone as always for your reviews, comments, messages, favs, alerts and general all around love. It's been some time since I have been able to post. I hope you enjoy :D No... I don't like Grace either but she is necessary evil.

Chapter 8: Admission

It was midmorning when Grace began to read. After the last chapter, she refused to read aloud to her grandmother without first skimming the chapter. Breasts, nipples, it was all too much. There was, if she were honest, an affinity growing in her for Marian. The idea of fancying an ex Elven slave was perplexing, but pushing that aside, she enjoyed the novelty of the adventurer's life.

Grace sat on her chaise lounge in front of a large beveled glass window. The light scattered as it shone through and cast an array of colors on the ground. Those messy rainbows, as Grace liked to think of them, had entertained her since she was a child. It brought a slim smile to her face, an expression that had rarely happened since her return from Orlais. The young noblewoman had become obsessed with fashion and wrinkles and those simple pleasures she had once enjoyed no longer mattered. She draped the heavy fabric of her dress over her exposed leg and relaxed like a cat curled up in the warm sun. It was a picture perfect setting.

What page was I on? She flipped through the book, studying the beginning of each line for a clue. Ah yes, the elf has decided he wants her. Well, She cocked an eyebrow. If Marian has any sense of decorum she will reject his advances and reconsider her rash feelings towards him. It is the lure of the exotic, I suspect. Why can this Marian Hawke not see her folly? Why must she...

There was a small timid rap on the door. Grace blew out an exaggerated sigh, folded her book onto her lap and straightened her posture. "Yes?" she asked.

"It is me, Thalia," the maid said. "I have brought your tea and biscuits."

"You may enter," Grace remarked, short and succinct. She pretended to be interested in her book, but she watched the young woman, every single move for any mistake. "Please, sit the tray on the table."

Thalia did as Grace asked. "Is there anything else you require?"

Grace waved her hand in one graceful movement like a queen addressing her court. "That is all."

For a brief moment, Thalia was certain she would laugh. Grace had become intolerable since her return from Orlais. She pranced around the mansion in the finest Starkhaven had to offer, demanded freshly cut flowers in every room and sat in front of the mirror applying strange make-up to her skin in the morning. To Thalia it looked wholly unnatural. The white pasty liquid she smeared across every inch of her face dampened her natural skin color bringing it closer to the hue of the newly deceased than vibrant beauty. It is horrible, Thalia thought and in her mind she could hear Grace's fake Orlesian accent. This time she did laugh.

"What is it that you find amusing, Thalia?" Grace asked. She rolled her eyes upwards and cast a glare that quickly soured Thalia's lively smile. "Did I miss something?"

She does not want me to answer that question, Thalia thought, but to her surprise she giggled again. "I am sorry, it is nothing. I was simply tickled by my sister's words from yesterday eve." Thalia attempted to diffuse the situation with a strategically placed grin. "New mothers must find ways to keep their spirits up."

"Well... I am glad you are entertained. I have to admit that Elven humor eludes me," Grace said and the pomposity in her voice angered Thalia. Her eyes studied the maid for a mere second, up and down, and then looked away in indifference. Thalia had seen it, she could not miss it for she had been subjected to the racist scrutiny of humans her entire life. But this... well this was a different matter. "Humans and elves are so very different in their likes and dislikes. It is a wonder we find a way to communicate at all."

Thalia's hands balled into tight fists. It took every measure of her restraint to withhold the full onslaught of anger she wished to unleash on Grace. "No, Grace, we are not that different."

"Excuse me?" Grace's eyes had widened, her body stiffened and she wondered if she had heard the maid correctly. "You dare speak my given name and in that tone? I will have you dismissed."

Thalia smiled with pride. "You have no say in the matter. You," she emphasized, "believe you are superior because of your studies in Orlais. We once played together in the garden as friends and equals, now you bark at me like I am dog. It is I who will leave this place for I am ashamed for your family and mine."

Thalia turned to leave but Grace's next words held her firm. "Elf, do not turn your back on me!"

"One day you will be humbled and I hope to be there to see the look on your face, Grace," Thalia said defiant and with the regality of royalty. "One day you will truly understand what it is to be one of us and all your finery and snobbery will not hide the truth of what and who you are. You will meet him and he will teach you the true meaning of nobility." Thalia slammed the door shut before Grace was given a chance to reply. The maid would hand in her resignation that afternoon and never see Grace again.

Grace sat stunned. No human or elf had dared to insult her in her own home. What did she mean who and what I am? I know who I am. And for that matter who is 'he'? She rolled her eyes and huffed. What a load of nonsense. That woman is out of her mind.

She made a mental note to tell her mother and grandmother what had happened and to make certain Thalia did not return. It had wounded her pride to be told she did not have the authority to dismiss the maid especially since it was the truth. Grace opened her book intent on forgetting the whole confrontation. Marian Hawke's predicament made her feel better about her own problems. Grace began to read:

Day 2 Evening

Fenris laid on one side of the bed and Marian the other. They were parted by a great divide of empty blankets. Every move she made no matter how slight put him on edge. Thanks to Danarius and Hadrianna it had become reflex to avoid any physical contact with another person. Fenris closed his eyes desperate to find a way to cope with her proximity.

This is ridiculous, he thought. Marian has no intention of hurting me. He side glanced at her, a quick study to see if there was any malice in her face. She was opening and closing her mouth like a fish and laughing. Marian hated long pauses in conversation. Humor, was a great way to put people at ease, at least it had always worked for her father, and she wanted to see if she could make Fenris laugh. No, he smirked, if anything she is a danger to herself and my sanity.

Fenris rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his arm. "Why are you imitating a fish?"

"To make you smile," she said and she bobbed again, until he was no longer able to hold in his laughter. "It worked."

He rolled onto his back and stared up through the hole in the rock. The light of the sun was fading fast. Above he could see the silhouette of leaves trembling in the slight wind. He hoped tonight he might catch a glimpse of a star, anything other than blackness. After their evening meal, Marian had located a lantern but she had yet to find her flint. He was determined to help her search for it in the morning.

"What are you thinking about?" Marian asked. Fenris was a mystery, one that she wanted to unravel. Today had been hell, tomorrow would be worse, now she wanted and needed a distraction. "You always seem so wrapped up in your thoughts, Fenris."

"I tend to dwell on the past, mostly negative happenings," he admitted to his surprise. "For three years I have been on the run from hunters and my master. Now I have time to consider and ponder what it means to be free…" He turned his head to look at her. "Thanks largely to you."

Three years? He has been on the run every day? She felt the pity well up inside, but quickly buried it before it became apparent. I need to act natural, not draw attention to his past. Marian blushed. "Pish," she said and waved the comment away. "I really did not contribute much to your freedom."

"Yes," he started to say, half humored by her humility. "Killing two groups of highly trained slave hunters and then having the willingness to face a magister is a minor detail. I am surprised I even noticed."

Marian hurled her pillow at him. He caught it before it hit his ear. "You were free for three years before we met. That is hardly a small feat. It makes my effort pale in comparison."

Three years of running, stealing and sleeping often in the open had felt like an eternity of hell but it was nothing compared to each second spent as a slave. Marian, he knew, would never understand how drinking stale ale and eating partially molded bread was a gift compared to the food and lodgings he had received in Tevinter. They had not known each other long, but already his life had improved. He had been able to rest in a bed for longer than a day, eat fresh food, laugh without reserve, engage in pleasant conversation and have his opinion taken into account. It was a gift, a wondrous aspect of life he never thought to enjoy. Above all else, he firmly believed Marian could help rid him of Danarius forever.

Brood, brood, brood. He's thinking again, Marian thought playfully in her mind. I must make him stop. But how? I would ask him what he is thinking but I am certain it will not be pleasant. If I don't ask him something he will grumble and brood. She sighed in her mind. How do I un-grumpy an elf? A small smile crept onto her lips. Be mindless.

"So," Marian said. Her fingers drummed lightly on her stomach. "What is your favorite color?"

Fenris cocked an inquisitive eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Marian smiled. "You said I could ask you anything."

"I was expecting questions of a more… personal nature," Fenris stated and he immediately regretted it. The idea had now been sown. "But perhaps it would be best to ask impersonal questions," he hurriedly added.

"No, no, no," she playfully scolded. "You said anything I want and I am going to ask what I like because…" She rolled over onto her side and stared at his prostate form. "You are extremely interesting. The most interesting man I have ever met."

Why did I agree to this? Fenris wondered. Does it matter? This is the end of day two and I have heard nothing from the other side of the rockslide. I suspect they are dead and we will be as well. Perhaps… since she seems truly interested I can tell her what she wishes to know and die with a clear conscience.

"Then ask," Fenris whispered. "I will not withhold a single fact."

Oh he is game. Marian smirked. Well this should be enlightening and fun. I should see if I can embarrass him. I love it when his ears blush.

"You are going to ask something embarrassing aren't you?"

"Yes," Marian replied with a smile on her face. "So…"

Fenris rolled his eyes and sighed. "So? What is it to be?"

"Is there anyone who has your… attention?" I can't believe I just asked that, Marian thought. I really am amazing. Why don't I just strip and fling myself at him. Please take me Fenris! Have mercy on this poor virgin and make her a woman before she dies and spends eternity at the Maker's side. Marian wanted to bang her head against the cave wall until rendered unconscious. Bloody hell, even holy Andraste wasn't a virgin. I bet she was better at this than me. Actually, Andraste must have been the supreme expert when it came to flirting. Gods don't fall for just anyone. Marian counted to ten and then relaxed, a method procured from her father. I wonder what it is like when you end up at the Marker's side? She gave it due consideration. Really boring I suspect.

Fenris studied Marian as she self flagellated her mind. The range of emotions she displayed humored and bewildered him. She rolled her eyes, smacked her hand against her forehead, stared upwards to the heaven as if to be talking silently to the Maker, counted, appeared to relax and finally displayed a face similar to one who may be experiencing constipation. Fenris decided it would best to speak before he laughed.

"Are you asking if I am romantically interested in someone?" Fenris hesitated. He had not expected this question. "If that is what you ask my answer is: yes."

Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask. "May I ask who?"

Fenris debated if he should lie. He no longer had the option to tell her to mind her business since he had sworn he would hide nothing. It would make life awkward to admit the truth, that he understood, and possibly miserable if she did not feel the same. So Fenris stalled.

"May I ask: why do you want to know?" Fenris said. "What relevance does it have now?"

Marian looked away. Did she really want to know? It would be the type of woman that glided instead of trudged, tee-heed instead of laughed, glowed instead of sweated and no doubt danced without trying to lead. But… she did want to know. She wanted to know him.

"Is she an elf?" Marian asked to Fenris's surprise. "Maker, tell me she doesn't live in Tevinter. That would break my heart."

"No," Fenris emphatically stated.

"No she is not an elf or no she doesn't live in Tevinter?"

"No to both of your questions," Fenris said. "She… is human," he quickly added.

"Oh," Marian said. The surprise in her voice confused Fenris. He was not sure whether it was on the verge of insult or curiosity. Many humans would consider an elf's infatuation beneath their attention. Was Marian one of them? "Did you meet her on your travels?"

Fenris smiled. He was enjoying the ability to remain ambiguous and not have it considered a lie. "Yes."

Now this is what I get for asking a clever man these questions. He is going to tell me nothing more than necessary. Bastard. "Fenris," Marian asked. "Are you going to give me something other than one word answers?"

"No," and he laughed. "Only if I must."

"You must!" She said and added a smile. "Tell me about her, whatever you will," Marian said. His cocky smirk was proving to be a distraction, one that she enjoyed more than she liked to admit. "I want to know what kind of woman has caught your eye."

Fenris relaxed into the makeshift bed. He stretched his arms over his head and cushioned his head into his hands. Marian watched his body with avid interest.

"She is strong in body and mind, compassionate, exceptionally beautiful, willful, often rash, humorous and speaks first without thinking, and too often," Fenris said. "But… I would change nothing."

Marian smiled. It was a melancholy smile full of both warmth and admiration. "She sounds wonderful. What do you love about her most?"

He smirked. "Her inability to see the obvious."

"Oh?" Marian asked, wondering how that would be a trait to love. "Forgive me for saying so, but the inability to see the obvious, being oblivious, is not exactly a trait I would expect a man to admire."

"And what traits do you look for in a potential suitor?" Fenris asked. "I think I would rather like to hear Marian Hawke's explanation of the perfect man." There was a part of Fenris that hoped this insight into Marian's romantic thoughts might include him. He was eager to hear her answer.

"First, there is no perfect man," she grinned. "All men are subject to improving until a woman deems them acceptable and even then it is tentative."

"I see," Fenris shook his head. "Yes, because women are born perfect."

"It's a curse really," Marian said and she giggled and snorted. Fenris laughed as she flushed from embarrassment. "That was your fault."

"I am now to be blamed for your body's inept expression of laughter?" Fenris asked. He rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his arm. They were staring at each other, both thoroughly amused by the other.

Marian's eyes drifted from his face to his biceps and down the length of his body. This she did without thought and Fenris noticed her perusal. "Well if you must know there is a man that I have recently met who has taken my fancy," Marian said playfully and she smiled into the distance. Her blush, she was certain, would soon burn a hole through her cheeks. "He is rather charming, but unfortunately smitten with someone else."

Is she really referring to me? Fenris thought. It seems impossible. Would she reveal so eagerly that 'he' is smitten with another woman after what I have said? He thought about her previous actions. I suppose a woman who makes fish faces is capable of anything.

"Are you certain?" Fenris asked eager to hear her answer. "Does he even know of your feelings?"

"Like you said: what relevance does it have now?" "Marian stated. The heavy sigh that followed moved Fenris. If it was indeed him of whom she spoke then he would find a way for it to be known that he felt the same. "Even so… I wish I had been less of a coward and told him. Maybe he would have taken pity on my poor flirting skills and courted me."

"You do not seem like the flirtatious type," Fenris said. "At least not that I have observed in my company."

"I cannot flirt," Marian said. "When I attempt to do so, men mistake it for bodily dysfunction or insanity."

Fenris chuckled. "Perhaps you try too hard. It is best to be direct with a man."

Marian rolled onto her back. The cave was dark now that the sun had set. Another day trapped in a pit and another day of considering death was about to pass. She longed to tell Fenris how she felt but she wondered how painful it would be if he reciprocated. They were going to die. Would it not be tragic to express her feelings? Selfish, she thought. It would be selfish to tell him. I led Carver and my friends to their deaths. What happiness do I deserve now? I should die miserable and afraid just like them.

"Marian?" Fenris whispered in the dark. "Do you wish to ask me another question?" Her mood has changed and swiftly. I feel it too now, the inevitable outcome. But I would not see her perish in this dank place without any joy, if knowing I care for her will give it.

"No, Fenris, I believe you have endured enough of my harassment for one day," she said. Her voice was barely audible even in the still of the cave. "I will leave you to your sleep."

But I will not leave you to your loneliness. "Marian," Fenris said. There was a waver in his voice, a type he had never heard. "I wish to tell you that it is you who has my attention."

Marian stared wide-eyed up into the darkness. The beating of her heart had become rapid and she could feel it in her chest. Several times she tried to speak only to find that her words were blocked by a smile. Fenris lay waiting for either rejection or confirmation of his suspicions. He waited for the sound of her voice to cut through the darkness and the fear. Eventually she answered.

"It was you," Marian said meekly and with effort. "I was speaking of you."

Fenris smiled the widest most uninhibited smile of his life. "I know."

"What do you mean, you know?" Marian asked, horrified that she had bared her feelings thinking he was ignorant of her infatuation. "I said those… things thinking you believed I was obsessed with another man and you let me! Why would you do that?"

His laughter annoyed her further. "Obsessed? I thought it was simple attraction," he laughed louder when she grumbled. "I stand corrected."

"I am ignoring you now," Marian said. She rolled away from him and pretended to be hurt. "I am completely disinterested."

"That is a travesty," Fenris said and his chest rumbled with a deep baritone chuckle. The playful teasing was his way of dealing with the trepidation and strange excitement he felt. She was attracted to him just as he was to her and that alone lifted his heart. Perhaps, it would bring them closer until the end and hopefully dampen the inevitable hell of starvation.

Marian rolled to face him once again. "I am not really disinterested in you, Fenris."

"I know," Fenris said and he snickered but this time it was quieter and more masculine. "Perhaps it would be best to discuss this during the light of day."

"Perhaps," Marian said and her voice was quiet and feminine. "But can it wait until after breakfast? I do not think I could speak of this while I eat."

Fenris grabbed one of the blankets that lay between their bodies. It was damp and cold but from experience he knew it would trap his body heat in as long as it did not touch his skin.

"Good night, Marian," Fenris said. He wondered if it would be more appropriate to move back to his bed, but the distance between them was great and he doubted she would take offence.

Marian stared in the direction of his voice. "Good night. I hope you sleep well." He… told me he was attracted to me. For Marian it was as if she lay looking up into the face of the Maker. Fenris had never been forthcoming with information or his feelings unless it concerned mages. To know of his attraction was astonishing. Later, when she could hear that his breathing had slowed and he was truly asleep, Marian quietly wept. She wept for them both, and because, what may have been between them would end in a hole in the ground.