And finally Fenris allows his brain to work properly...

Warning: sex (nothing too explicit.)

Enjoy!

A Wild-Goose Carol part four

Highly irritated Fenris slammed the front door of his mansion shut and ascended the stairs to the living room in what could be called the mother of all foul moods. He put his sword in the weapon rack with such incensed force that the construction toppled over but he didn't pay attention to the loud clanking. He removed his breastplate, pauldrons and gauntlets and tossed the pieces unceremoniously on the table. All the while he kept grumbling to himself, or rather to an audience that wasn't present. Angry words larded with colourful Tevene curses. Get some hours of sleep. Yeah right. Venhedis! Like he would succeed in simply lying down on his bed, closing his eyes and drifting off. Idiot dwarf with his ludicrous ideas. Randomly he kicked at a ball of paper, still scattered about on the floor. Fasta vass!

He grabbed the iron poker and aggravated thrust into the dying fire. Where the hell could she be?! He poked some more and with more viciousness until the fire roared once again. 'Festis bei umo canavarum!' he growled at the flames. Enthusiastically they growled something unintelligibly back, certainly heated but without passion. 'Kaffas!' he spat in return, admittedly with impotent fury. A whole cartload of frustrations was put into that one word. 'Vishante kaffas,' he added for good order. But it didn't help to lighten his dark mood. He got consumed with worry and no swearword in the world could remedy that. Vashedan, he tried nevertheless, when Tevene failed him and he shouted the first Qunlat profanity that came to mind.

He was so scared she had done something utterly silly, so scared they would find her body months from now, washed ashore somewhere at the Wounded Coast. So scared some dangerous psychopath had abducted her and did, right now, unspeakable things to her... All kinds of gruesome scenarios swirled through his mind and it drove him crazy.

Abruptly he dropped the poker and decided to fetch a bottle of wine to pass the empty hours of waiting with. With any luck it would help to sort his thoughts and to take away the edge of his powerless anger and fear that led to nothing constructive. To prevent he would completely go out of his mind. Without much gusto he shuffled downstairs to the cellar. He was halfway the spacious hall when he suddenly held still and frowned.

Cellar. Varric had mentioned looking in cellars.

Finally it struck him. And it hit him with the force of a sock filled with wet sand. You utter blind and thick-headed moron. You knew! You bloody knew!

He spun on his heels, dashed though the front door and started running, paying no attention whatsoever to the people who hastily had to jump out of his way for dear life. He never heard their angry shouts; he never got aware of the string of bruised persons and vulgarities he left in his wake. Only minutes later he banged like a madman on the entrance to the Amell estate.

Bodahn opened the door and cried out in surprise, 'Messere! Have you found her?'

Without an answer Fenris pushed the steward aside and raced to the kitchen.

Hawke had completely lost track of time and didn't know whether it was day or night. It didn't matter anyhow. She still hadn't located that (in the meantime grown mythical) stock of candles and feared by now Bodahn had taken them upstairs. Probably to set the house on fire. Thus she had been forced to sit most of the time in complete darkness. How long had she been locked up by now? Hours? Days? Why, for the Maker's sake, didn't any of the servants need to come down here? Because everything required for the First Day festivities had already been stored in the pantry, she thought sourly. Everything except for the exquisite port she had recently discovered at her favourite vintner, and she per se had wanted to serve with the sweet cakes and hearty Orlesian cheeses at the end of the First Day dinner.

With a pang of regret she realised Bodahn and Orana must be beside themselves with worry by now. She had passed the stages of fear, melancholy and self-pity and was now entering the phase of desperation. It looked like she had to spend the most wonderful time of the year all alone in pitch darkness. And that her friends and servants would spend it worrying about what had happened to her. For the first time in her life she wished she were a mage, so she could burn that stubborn piece of a blighted door down or blow it to splinters. Or, preferably, to sawdust. She bit back tears of frustration.

And then a sudden broad beam of light abruptly blinded her. She lifted her hand to cover her eyes and scrambled onto her feet. 'Bodahn ..?' she said hesitantly. 'Is that you? The wedge, think about the wedge. It - ' She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence.

Because the next moment she felt a pair of strong arms around her, embracing her so hard that it almost pushed the wind out of her lungs.

'Marian,' a well-known and much longed for low husky voice stuttered, 'Marian, love, I was so scared something terrible had befallen you.' She heard a taking in of a deep shuddering breath. 'I should have known you were trapped in here. I knew about the blasted door. I knew about the wedge. I should have come sooner.'

Fenris

With a sob of relief she clung onto him. He pulled her frame even closer to his and buried his face in her hair. She could feel how his heart beat powerfully through both their clothes and realised he wore no armour. The significance didn't even get through to her, not at this very moment.

'I'm so sorry,' he whispered.

'Sorry?' she said bewildered, with difficulty stifling another snivel. 'You're sorry for rescuing me?' After all the time spent alone in the dark with nothing but her depressing thoughts to keep her company, she wasn't able to think clearly.

Fenris let out a rather shivering chortle. 'No! Of course not!' He seemed to sob himself this time. And then he broke into what seemed to be some kind of grand apology and a mea culpa all in one. Uttered in one long breath. 'I'm sorry for leaving you three years ago, for being such a fool and coward. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for the awful words I hurled at you recently. You of all people didn't deserve that. I behaved like an utmost jackass. Both times. For what it's worth, I didn't mean what I shouted. I really didn't. I was just afraid. And upset. And I never meant to leave you back then. I just – I just got dragged away by those wretched memories. They ruined everything. I let them ruin everything. I was an idiot.'

Having spilled all his pent-up emotions, together with the last of his breath, he nervously awaited her reaction.

'I know,' Hawke whispered after a few heartbeats. And only then his use of her given name and the additive "love" hit home. She couldn't help starting to cry.

Fenris heaved his head and framed her face with his hands. 'Did I say something wrong?' he asked anxiously.

'You said "love",' Marian sniffed.

'Yes,' he said seriously, 'and I meant it. I meant it with whole my heart.' He bit his lip and tenderly wiped away the tears on her cheeks with the pad of his thumbs. 'Can you forgive me?'

She gave him a fragile but warm smile. 'There's nothing to forgive. I understand.' She added with a moist little laugh, 'I understood back then, although, no, it was not easy, and I understand right now.'

His face was close and his beautiful silvery green eyes bore into hers. 'Will you still have me?' he silently asked.

His hypnotizing warm voice travelled along her body and nestled in her stomach, causing all kinds of very pleasant commotions along the way. Tenderly she touched his face. 'Do you really have to ask?'

And all his worries fled.

Without thinking any further, as if his mind was capable of producing a single coherent thought at all at this moment, he let lips descend on hers and he felt a thrill going through his system at the soft touch. At the memory so unexpectedly turning into reality. She threw her arms around his neck and waist and responded to his kiss with almost frantic passion. Their tongues entangled in a heated dance, as if they both desperately tried to quench their thirst for each other, as if they wanted to make up for the wasted years within mere moments. When she pulled away to take a gulp of air she mumbled, 'Don't you even think of letting go off me.'

'I wouldn't dare,' he replied hoarsely and attacked her mouth for a second time. His head started spinning when he again tasted her and it got in full through to him he was really holding the body he had dreamed about for so many times. The body of the woman he loved. Her hands slipped under his shirt to wander over his naked skin and with a shiver he tightened his grip on her behind.

'Marian,' he murmured helplessly, 'I yearn so much for you.'

'Then don't hold back. Please don't hold back.' To emphasize her desire for him she almost tore his shirt in her haste to get it off him. Driven by impulse and longing, she rubbed her heated centre against his fast hardening member and his breath hitched.

In response he simply ripped apart the finery she wore to get access to her wonderful breasts as fast as possible. 'You're so beautiful,' he panted. 'All those years, those stupid squandered lonely years –'

'Let's make up for them, starting right now,' she interrupted him before he could lose himself in useless remorse. She easily persuaded him by reaching into his leggings and closing her hand challengingly around his firm standing length. Her fingers stroked him with unwavering want and he writhed at the touch, letting out a deep lustful moan. She whispered into his sensitive ear, 'You may have yearned for me, my love, but you don't know half how much I have yearned for you.' The dark, desperate hours definitely lay behind her, right now. The bright beam of light had turned into an allegory. A promise of happiness.

She couldn't possibly give him more encouragement. He pushed her against the wall and with trembling, though determined fingers got rid of her smallclothes by simply shredding them to pieces. Eagerly she threw her legs around him while he lifted her and with a guttural groan he entered her. He breathed her name in excitement when he drowned in her.

He closed his eyes and started moving. At first slow, with ecstasy drinking in all the soft moaning sounds she made, feeling the wet heat that surrounded him and sucked him in, deeper, constantly deeper, until he couldn't take it any longer and he didn't even want to restrain himself any more. He pounded ferociously into her embracing sheath. Suddenly he heard her cry out his name and at the same time felt her clamp around him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders while she kept whimpering his name in her seemingly everlasting release. And then a mighty orgasm took hold of him. He poured all of his love and endured fears and desire for her in one mighty outburst.

When it was over he sank with trembling knees on the floor, taking her with him, still connected to her, holding her fiercely. He thought his lungs would burst. 'I love you,' he uttered, struggling for breath. 'My Marian, my sweet, wonderful Marian, I love you so much.' He had never felt more fulfilled, thankful and at the same time more shaken in his whole life. He realised that the distress about her vanishing had taken even more toll of his nerves that he had already thought. And that was not all. Now, with his plea for forgiveness and his declaration of love, he had given her all of his soul, all of his essence. He felt emotionally naked and utterly vulnerable. He had put his whole life in her hands. At this moment she could snap him like a twig.

Suddenly he went afraid. He had tossed his sister aside; the sister he had longed for, simply to feel the meaning of family. He had accepted he would never feel that meaning. At least, not if Marian didn't agree to be some kind of family to him. In fact, he reasoned, with an industrial of not frantic working part of his brain, she was his family, his only family. That was, as long as he had understood right that family meant the persons you loved, the ones closest to you. But he understood so little of it. He sighed deeply. He knew he shouldn't be afraid for her reaction but, nevertheless, he was. It turned out he indeed shouldn't have fretted.

She held on to him as if he was her life saviour which, at this moment, pretty much was the case. 'And I love you,' she wept, 'you mean everything to me.' And then a shakily laugh escaped her. 'Look at me, one moment utterly desperate, the next moment the happiest woman in Thedas.' And after that, as if she had read his mind, she said to his exalted astonishment, 'You're the only family that is left to me. That is, if you will stay with me.' She burst into tears and at the same time into laughter.

He laughed with her and kissed her and made love to her again. 'I will always stay with you,' he managed to state somewhere in between.

After what seemed a long time later, he said with a deep, content sounding groan, suddenly remembering why they were making love in the cellar, of all places, 'I kicked the wedge under the door. Don't fear you will be cooped up in here any longer.' The fact they could have had curious visitors or an inquisitive public never had crossed his thoughts. On the other hand, in his exalted mood he couldn´t care less. And, deep down, he had counted on Bodahn's courtesy and moderation.

With a moist chuckle she responded, 'As if I would mind being cooped with you in here!'

As a matter of fact, after Fenris had pulled it off to lead her to her bedroom, stared after by a very understanding, very relieved and, most of all, very grateful and happy Bodahn, they made love several times over in her comfortable soft bed until they were utterly spent and utterly satisfied. And had lost all sense of time.

'Yes, she is at home and no, you can't see her.' Bodahn stubbornly kept his foot down. With just his eyes he challenged the other dwarf to make a try at entering the house and storming the first floor. And he particularly looked the human mage behind Varric's back straight in the face with an extremely dark scowl. He knew about the man's grating persistently attempts to conquer the heart of the Lady of the Manor. They might have been in vain, they had been annoying nevertheless, to say the least about it. Bodahn might not wield an axe, his expression said it would be just a matter of seconds before he would produce such weapon and not only to threaten, but also to behead him with it.

With a hardly concealed smile Varric heaved his hands. 'Wow! Calm down Bodahn! We're just here to make certain the Champion has indeed been found and no harm has come to her.'

The steward tried to hide the broad grin that fought its way to his face. 'She is perfectly alright.' And now he absolutely couldn't suppress that grin. 'More than alright, I believe. And don't worry, the First Day festivities that were arranged for this night in this house will go on as planned. We, that is Messere Hawke, Messere Fenris,' (he accentuated that last name with again a dark look at the present mage) 'and the staff expect you to arrive around seven bells. We're looking forward to it.' With that he pushed the door shut.

Behind him Varric heard Anders grunt loudly. He clapped him on the lower back, which was approximately as high as he could reach. 'Come on, buddy, you know you couldn't win this fight. And what were you thinking anyway, with that demanding and sourly, er, spirit in your head. That one wouldn't have approved.'

'No,' Anders sighed, 'you probably are right.'

'Of course I am. Now go home, get dressed properly and make a nice evening out of it. It's First Day. Time for peace on earth and brave but impossible to fulfil resolutions and all that kind of things.'

They woke up in a puzzle of limbs and in a rosy cloud of happiness. Fenris heaved his head to look at Marian's glowing face that was half hidden behind a mass of tousled hair. She smiled at him. 'I suppose I look as ridiculously happy as you do.'

He smiled back and tenderly kissed the top of her nose. 'I indeed hope so.' His look turned meditatively. 'You talked about family.' He gave her lopsided smile. 'And I thought about it. But you know more about the subject than I do. I must confess I don't understand much of it. But I can't deny it's important to me.'

Marian giggled softly. 'It must be, if it's your pressing topic to start the day with.' She pulled him in her arms and murmured against his chest, 'I have no relatives left, besides Uncle Gamlen, who is more like some grumpy, faint acquaintance who only pays a visit when he needs money. But that doesn't mean I have no family.' She looked up at him and smiled brightly. 'I consider Varric family, my brother in fact. Well, some kind of a brother anyway. A strange one, admittedly, but still. And Aveline has always been like a sister to me.' She softly kissed his skin. 'I know Donnic is a dear friend to you, perhaps even your best friend.'

Fenris nodded. 'That's true. But does that make him family?'

Hawke sat up and he followed her, immediately drawing her into his arms because he wanted to feel as much of her as possible. She settled against his frame and laid her head upon his shoulder. 'In a way it does,' she said. 'I've always thought a family is formed out of the people you care about, not per definition the ones you are saddled with through birth.' She tilted her head and grinned mischievously. 'I don't bear warm feelings for said dear Uncle Gamlen, for instance, although he is my mother's brother. I do, however, love Varric and Aveline and, well, all of our friends. And the wonderful and unique persons who share this house with me.' She lightly tapped his lovely straight elven nose with a finger. 'And I love you. And you're definitely no family by blood. Thankfully.' She smiled again. 'But the feelings for my friends and their mutual feelings for me make them family.'

Fenris caressed her shoulders and back while he pondered that. It was, after all, a subject he wasn't very – ha ha – familiar with. He stooped over her and gently kissed her. 'We, of course, can always start our own family.'

He left her completely stupefied while he, inwardly grinning broadly, left the bed to leave her to stew in her bafflement for the moment. 'How about a warm bath before breakfast? Though lunch might be a better word, I suspect.' He looked at the muffled white light streaming through the closed curtains. Muffled and at the same time bright light. He frowned. He walked over to the window, pulled the soft velvet cloth aside and stared at a, for Kirkwall, rather exceptional view. He turned to Marian who still was searching for her voice.

'It's snowing. Happy First Day, my love.'

Hawke jumped out of bed and joined him at the window. She put her arm around his waist while she leant her head against his shoulder. Together they looked at the snowflakes that peacefully descended on the city.

'And happy First Day to you,' she sighed with sparkling eyes and in utter contentment.

Fenris mused there couldn't have been a more appropriate holiday for their reuniting.

First Day. A new start. The first day of their future together.

I hope you liked this short story; I had much fun writing it. Thanks for reading!

Merry Holidays and a very happy New Year to all of you!