Two weeks and his beloved was still unconscious. Her wound was healing and her body was physically recovering; however, her inability to eat concerned him. She was wasting away before him. There was only so long she could go without food. He was contemplating this outside her door one afternoon when Merrill approached him with a breakfast tray.

"By the dread wolf, Fenris!" She exclaimed, "when was the last time you took care of yourself!? Just because she is ill does not mean that you have to deny yourself a bath to care for her."

Fenris's brow furrowed and he stared at her with wide, confused eyes. He ran his fingers through his shaggy ice white locks and cringed. They were matted and greasy. Even Denarius never let him get this bad; even when his time in the dungeon was at its longest, his master kept him clean…he liked him better that way. He shivered at the thought. It was then that he realized that he had not bathed in a week and a half. He also hadn't had a good night's rest in about as long. He sighed and took the breakfast tray from his friend. "I'll have Orana draw a bath." Merrill offered gently. He nodded once and shoved a spoonful of porridge into his mouth.

A few hours later, he emerged from the guest bathroom shirtless toweling off his hair. Beads of lavender scented water rolled down his shoulders. Merrill tried not to look at him too long, embarrassed of what he might think, and ashamed to see him like this when clearly, he belonged to Hawke. Much to his displeasure, she stood before him with his armor in a haphazard bundle in her arms. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You've been cooped up in this house for two weeks." She explained, "You need to get out for a while."

He huffed in response, snatching the bundle away from her. "While I agree it would do me some good to get dressed, I am not leaving her."

"I thought you might say that, so I had Orana write a shopping list and gave her the afternoon off."

He rolled his eyes, "Good! Then you can do the shopping." I'm not an errand boy anymore, he grumbled in his head.

"I thought you might say that too…so I had Bodahn send for Varric to accompany you."

He sighed heavily at her persistence. He had to admit, she chose the perfect person if she truly wanted him out of the house. The dwarf was one of the most stubborn people he had ever met, second only to Hawke. He would submit to the dwarf's half-baked plans, if only to avoid the constant prodding into his past. The fewer details he had to add to his book, the better. Fenris retreated into the washroom to dress. When he emerged, Varric's voice echoed through the halls of the massive estate. Fenris stalked down the stairs to great him.

"Hiya, Broody!" the dwarf smiled, "You look like hell."

"My physical appearance matters little to me in light of recent events." He growled.

"I can tell, your hair is almost as spiky as your armor."

The elf rolled his eyes as Bodahn entered the foyer with a small red pouch, "Good afternoon Messeres." He greeted cheerfully, "Messere Merrill bid me to give you Orana's shopping funds and list. She said that I should firmly remind you that it is healthy to get out of the house for a while." He looked pointedly at Fenris.

"Don't worry Bodahn, I'll make sure Broody here gets some fresh air without running off to sulk in the shadows." He took the pouch of coins from manservant, "Speaking of Daisy, where did she run off to?"

"She probably went with Sandal to walk Argenti. For some reason she has taken quite the liking to the beast. I do not know why; he is a war dog not a halla."

The two dwarves chuckled before Varric threw his crossbow over his shoulder and headed for the door. "Come on Broody, you need sunshine too or Daisy will not be the only one wilting."

The elf sighed but obeyed.

Fenris would never admit it, but being outside did help. Of course, the thought of his beloved unconscious in her bed at home loomed over him like a sword over his head, but it was less claustrophobic in the market. It was also nice to have someone to talk to that was not Anders or Merrill. He and Varric wandered through the square purchasing food and other supplies, keeping the conversation light and away from any mention of Hawke's health. Fenris ignored the stares of the nobles in Hightown. They would stare as he passed before turning to gossip to one another in hushed tones, probably commenting on how the Champion's Elven lover and former Tevinter slave was out running the errands of a servant.

"How scandalous" he thought to himself with a smirk.

They were headed back to the Hawke estate when a trinket stall caught Fenris's eye. He approached the stall with interest and peered into the glass cases full of fine china teacups and jewelry. The woman running the stall glared at him, expecting him to try stealing something from right under her nose. He was used to it, and decided to ignore her as it was better than causing more trouble for Hawke by starting an argument with a mere shopkeeper. He gazed into the case full of jewelry and the smallest of things caught his eye: a ring. The band was thin and delicate with vines of gold wound around it in intricate filigreed swirls. The tiny diamonds set into the band at irregular intervals gave the illusion of newly blossoming buds. The vines wound around the band gathered at the setting of the multifaceted crystal that was the spotlight of the piece. As he stared at the ring, he knew what he wanted…Hawke.

These past two weeks had been the hardest two weeks of his life, living simultaneously with and without her. Even in his darkest days under Danarius when he was starved, beaten bloody and on the brink of death was he as miserable as he was not knowing what would become of his champion. If she awoke…no, when she awoke, he was going to make her his before the universe had the chance to separate them for good. He had already made the mistake of letting her go three years prior and he would not make that mistake again. Although they had only been reunited for only a few months, things had moved quickly between them almost as if there was not a chunk of time missing between them; they acted as if they had been together for six years rather than six months. He should have asked for her hard years ago on that first night they spent together instead of running with his tail between his legs as he always did.

He called Varric over from across the square where he had been chatting with a fellow dwarven merchant. He smiled and quickly trotted to the elf's side.

"I'd like to see that one."

The shopkeeper looked at him hesitantly for a moment, eyes scanning the square to count the number of guards on patrol in the square that day. Fenris resisted his urge to roll his eyes. He was no thief any longer, not that she could stop him if he really wanted to make off with the ring without paying. He made his own coin now as honestly as any mercenary, and had no need for petty theft to survive any longer. When the woman running the stall decided that there were enough guards in close vicinity to take on the elf before her should he try anything, she sighed and reluctantly unlocked the display case. She plucked the ring from among its bretheren, and placed it gently in the palm of Fenris's awaiting hand just as Varric arrived at his side. He showed the dwarf the treasure and received a low whistle in response.

"Damn Broody! Is that for the lady?"

"If she wakes up, I want her to know that I am never again leaving her side. I made that mistake once, and I will not be making it again."

Varric responded with a genuine smile, "You deserve to be happy Fenris, and so does Hawke. I've never seen anyone look at her the way you do and vice versa."

With the mention of the Champion's name, the shopkeeper's entire demeanor changed. She must have realized that Fenris was not just another alienage elf window shopping in Hightown looking for something of value to steal and pawn off in Darktown, but rather the mysterious warrior courting the city Champion. Her back straightened and an excited smile took its place on her lips.

"It's lovely, isn't it Messere?" she asked with a curtsey in a sickly sweet and fake voice.

Fenris raised an eyebrow at her sudden change in attitude, "Indeed. How much?"

"Twenty sovereigns, Messere." She bowed once more.

"Consider it sold." Fenris replied dumping the contents of his own coin purse onto the stall counter.

"Where the hell did you come up with that kind of coin?" Varric chuckled in amazement.

"I've been beating Donnic ritualistically at Diamondback for months now. Poor fool keeps coming back claiming he will win one day. What he doesn't know however is that Isabela is the one that taught me to play."

"The poor sod." The dwarf mused, "Aveline sure knows how to pick them, doesn't she?"

Fenris chuckled to himself as the shopkeeper placed the ring into a plush navy colored box for him. He smiled down at his investment and placed it into his belt pouch before making his way back to Hightown with Varric and the groceries.

"It's lovely, isn't it Messere?" Varric mocked in a high-pitched voice, "I'm a racist bitch who hates elves unless they have important connections Messere." He curtsied and entered the Hawke estate foyer. He handed the groceries off to Bodahn just as Anders emerged from the kitchen with a mug of tea on a fancy-looking saucer. The mage opened his mouth to make a snarky comment when a sharp, raspy giggle echoed through the estate from the balcony above. All three men whipped around to stare up at the source of the noise. There, leaning heavily against the balcony railing breathing laboriously was a pale and sickly thin Aria Hawke. Her copper hair was piled in a rat's nest atop her head, her cheeks were hollow and sunken, and an amused smile played at the corner of her cracked, dry lips. Her eyes however were rather bright considering she had spent the last two weeks unconscious in bed.

"Aria!" Fenris exclaimed dropping his packages and great sword to the floor with a clatter. He bounded up the steps as Anders shoved his mug of tea into Varric's hand and followed suit.

"Well hello to you too." The rogue rasped as the two men appeared at her side, "What did I do to deserve such attention from two fine gentlemen?"

Fenris shucked off his gauntlets haphazardly and grabbed her by the waist to support her. She weakly leaned into him, allowing him to bare her weight for her. Anders draped her other arm over his shoulder to balance Fenris and the two guided her back to bed.

You should not be up and moving on your own." The mage chided, "You are going to undo all of my hard work."

"Well excuse me for being unfamiliar with the rules." She quipped, "It is not as though I have been completely incapacitated for an unknown length of time or anything."

The sat her back on her bed and she groaned slightly. Anders helped her to swing her legs up so she could lay down once more as Fenris poured her a glass of water.

"Drink." He commanded, handing her the glass. It began to slip between her frail fingers and the elf caught it, heling her bring it to her lips. When she had drained it, she handed him the glass and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

"Thanks." She smiled in a less raspy voice, "I needed that."

"I'll say." Fenris snorted, "It's been weeks since we have been able to get a substantial amount of fluids into you."

Anders retreated to the corner of the room where he had been stashing his medical supplies. Hawke reached up to run her thumb lightly over the circles under Fenris's eyes. "You look like hell."

The elf rolled his eyes and gently took her hand in his, "Well if it isn't the pot calling the kettle black." He breathed into her skin with a gentle kiss. He placed her hand on his chest, and she could feel the heat radiating from the recently sun-warmed armor. She smiled contentedly.

Anders bustled over with a notebook and an arm full of potions. Fenris stepped back to allow him to tend to his healing. The mage took copious amounts of notes and looked over every inch of Hawke's body (much to Fenris's dismay). Her lover remained out of his way, but his eyes never left the frail woman before him. When Anders untied her robe to change her bandages and check her wound, he bit back his jealousy and hid behind his ragged fringe. Aria's eyes met his with a soft look that said, 'He's a healer, it's his job.' He responded with a scowl he hoped conveyed the message 'As soon as this is over, no one will be removing your robes again unless it is me.' When Anders was done tending to her wounds he took a step back to take in his work as a whole. Aria's stomach growled.

"Ah yes, food." Ander's sighed, "I knew I was forgetting something."

"Finally." Hawke chuckled, "I'm starving."

The mage's brow furrowed, "Nothing but dry toast and water for now I'm afraid. If you keep that down, perhaps some eggs and tea. Small bites and sips only, no inhaling your food. Your stomach has likely shrunk and you are severely dehydrated. Eating too much too quickly will just cause you to puke it back up, further dehydrating you. I will not have that. So help me Maker, I will watch you eat if I have to."

Hawke looked disappointed as her stomach growled once more.

"Healer's orders." Anders warned.

"I will ensure she does not overexert herself." Fenris ensured. Anders nodded curtly before leaving the room to fetch Orana and Hawke's supper.

Hawke patted the bed beside her, encouraging Fenris to take his place at her side. She tried to make more room but groaned in pain. He gently scooped her up and moved her himself. After removing his chest plate and placing on the chair he had slept in the last two weeks, he crawled into bed next to her. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply. She smelled of pine and cranberry.

"I missed you." He mumbled into her matted locks.

"I dreamt of you." She sighed in response, "I dreamt you cared for me. You read to me, you helped clean my bedding, you helped to bathe me…your voice and touch was ever present there in my dreams."

"That was not a dream."

She blushed deeply "…Oh, Fenris…" She reached up to touch his face, but he caught her hand gently in his. He kissed each individual knuckle lightly.

"I have something for you." He breathed into her palm, "A gift."

She raised her eyebrows and craned her neck to look at his face. His eyes were soft tufts of grass after a fresh spring rain; she was captivated.

"In the market today, I realized how hellacious and empty my life had been without you these past few weeks. It hurt just the same as it did when I made that stupid mistake three years ago." His eyes saddened with the memory, "I decided today, that should you wake up, I would never leave your side so long as you would have me."

He slid out of the bed and took her hand in his, dropping to one knee at her bedside. With his free hand he pulled the plush box, opening it to reveal the ring within.

"Aria Patricia Amell-Hawke," His eyes met hers with a sincere promise, "Before I met you I was a slave, never allowed to dream, never allowed to love. All I thought of was my master's will. Now I am a free man, yet all I dream of is you. All I love, is you. The only will I care for is yours. Before, I was bound to Danarius against my will, but now I wish to be bound to you, forever, as your humble equal. I will be your provider, your protector, your confident, and your rock. I willfully submit my heart and soul to you, for you are the embodiment of freedom." He closed his eyes and placed a hand over his heart, "If you will have me, I am yours."

He stole a glance at her. She was sobbing silently.

"Fenris…" she blubbered and nodded her head as her words failed her. He smiled the first genuine smile he could remember and slipped the ring on her fifer as she pulled him in for a gentle but passionate kiss. When the finally broke their embrace, he climbed back into her bed and snuggled her against his chest.

"I am yours."