Fenris paced back and forth across the large room, bare feet padding quietly on the plush carpet. He had hoped to surprise Hawke upon her return home from the market that afternoon. It was her day off from the gory chaotic life of Kirkwall's Champion: no blood, no guts, no annoying politics. She had the day to herself to poke around the market and spend time with her mother before supper and the weekly game of Wicked Grace down at the Hanged man. Fenris had hoped to catch a few moments alone with her today, away from the prying eyes of their companions and the whispers of the Hightown nobles. She was the champion, and he was an ex-slave and an elf…whenever seen together as friends it stirred up quite a bit of gossip; public displays of affection were out of the question then in his mind, for he did not want to ruin his lover's public image.

So, there he paced, wearing a rut into the carpet beneath his calloused toes. He knew she would be home soon as he had, admittedly, been following her for most of the day. When he saw her pass his home from his bedroom window just after dawn, wearing nothing but a comfortable tunic and leggings instead of her standard hardened leather armor, his stomach had clenched with fear and worry. She was the champion of Kirkwall, and a Fereldan refugee who built her fortune up from nothing; she had many enemies she did not even know existed and still she left the house unarmed and without an escort. She was foolish, and he was impulsive. Without even thinking, Fenris strapped on his armor, snatched up his great sword and resolved to follow her just in case some enemy of hers was stupid enough try something in broad daylight.

Keeping tabs on her was not easy. He stuck out like a sore thumb in Hightown, and if caught trailing the Champion there would be trouble. Thankfully, Aveline's guard knew who he was and if they noticed him following Hawke, they said nothing. Avoiding the glares of the nobles and trying to blend in as if he belonged in the market was the hard part. It wasn't long before he resolved to slinking into the shadows; he did not want to spoil the one day she had to herself for once. He trailed her the entire day. Initially, he was alert and rigid, predator like eyes scanning the crowd for any hints of danger, but after a while he began to become distracted by the way the sun hit her hair, the way her laugh rang out above the noise of the crowd, and…by the sway of her hips. Before long, it became less of a security detail and more of a self-satisfying outing, yet he continued to lie to himself about that minor detail. He felt less unworthy if he let the bodyguard instincts Denarius had instilled in him take over. Hawke was his leader, his friend, his lover, and she needed to be kept safe when she stupidly left the house unprotected. Thankfully, she stayed in Hightown where the guard patrols were regular and violent crime was down.

It was when she stopped in to visit the chantry to light candles for her brother and sister and lay an offering at Andraste's feet in their name that Fenris decided to follow her no more. Prayers for the departed were a very personal thing; he understood boundaries. Hawke would be irritated if she knew that he had followed her all day, she would be annoyed. If she found out he had even followed her into the chantry, she would be livid. He decided not to take that chance and instead made the choice to surprise her back at her estate with a bouquet of flowers and a new book to read together. He returned to the market himself, and was back at the Hawke estate in a flash. He climbed up the balcony outside her bedroom just as he had done so many times before when he would stay the night without her mother's knowledge, and slipped through the door into her bedroom using the key she had given him after they had reconciled the "break up" they had three years prior. He placed the book and flowers on the bed, and set to pacing.

Books were something they gifted each other often; flowers however, were something new. He knew it was what the noblemen would present their betrothed with before a supervised outing. Flowers for a lady a man was courting was the norm in Hightown, but nothing Fenris had ever presented Hawke with…and something Hawke never asked for. He was not sure if he was worthy to gift her flowers. She was nobility, he was an ex-slave and an elf…did he have the right to court her?

This was the question he was contemplating, running in endless circles in his mind as he paced, when he heard Bodahn greet her at the door. Her warm welcome floated up into her bedroom as light as air, and set Fenris's heart at ease. She was Hawke, she was noble, he was an ex-slave and an elf…and she didn't care. He stopped pacing and smiled to himself with a slight blush he was glad she could not see. She made him so…happy…a word and an emotion he never thought he deserved, let alone was capable of feeling. A warm ache pounded in his chest.

He heard the floorboards of the stairs creek slightly as she began making her way to her bedroom to rest for a while after spending the whole day trapsing around Hightown. Fenris sat rigid on the edge of her bed, wiping sweaty palms on his leather leggings, eyes hidden shyly behind his icy white fringe, and a hint of pink still showing at the tips of his ears.

"Aria, dear?" Leandra called out to her daughter. Fenris' sharp ears caught the falter in his beloved's step as she froze halfway up the stairs.

"Yes, mother."

"Do you have a moment?"

Hawke huffed with exhaustion and impatience, but replied in Ernest "For you mother, I have all the time in the world."

Fenris smiled at her comment. Leandra Amell-Hawke was the last of Aria's family, and she did all that she could to make time for her, even if it meant setting aside her own plans. Fenris caught the sound of the younger woman leaning against the banister of the staircase. Her mother continued.

"I um…I wanted to talk to you about some rumors I have heard around town…"

Hawke sighed an exasperated sigh, and her tone became slightly harsh "What rumors?"

"Apparently you have been seen around town with a…male companion."

Fenris stiffened, and his stomach turned to ice. Hawke was the Champion of Kirkwall, she was nobility, he was an ex-slave and an elf…Leandra was the last of Hawke's family, and she would do anything for her.

"Mother, I have several male friends. I am also hardly ever in the red lantern district. If people want to make me out to be a whore, let them. I could care less."

"That is…not the issue." The elder Hawke clarified, "I know you have many friends darling, but rumor has it that you are quite…taken…with one of them."

"Oh? And now suddenly all of Kirkwall cares more about a legitimate relationship I may have rather than my sexual reputation?"

"Darling," Leandra warned, "I am being serious."

Fenris could practically feel Hawke rolling her eyes, "What have you heard mother and why does it bother you so?"

"I have heard that you are quite taken with…well, with…an e-elf. Your uncle says he has seen you together at the pub in Lowtown, with your head on his shoulder…"

Fenris's face dropped, and he slumped into her soft bed, pleading with the Maker to strike him down where he stood while also straining to catch his lover's response.

"Who I take a fancying to is none of my nosey uncle's damn business. The only reason he cares is because he is a bigot, and a rat who wants me to marry wealth so he can get a larger stipend."

"While I will agree that my brother is both a bigot and a rat, I do not think he is wrong to take interest in the affairs of his niece. To some degree I know he loves you and worries about your future. I know from experience what it means to choose someone society does not approve of, and someone constantly on the run. It is not an easy life darling, and not a life I would choose for my daughter. I would change nothing of my past with your father, but I want nothing more than to see you stable and living a life free of fear."

"Firstly mother, I don't give a damn if society approves of me spending time with an elf. Elves feel just as humans do, they bleed if cut just as humans do…elves and humans are not all that different. The only difference is a hierarchy of race that society has structured. Secondly, I'm an ex-smuggler Fereldan refugee who suddenly made a fortune in the deep roads, moved into Hightown, and is meddling in the political affairs of a city I am foreign to…I will never live a safe life because I have painted my own target on my back. Lastly, who said I would spend the rest of my life on the run?"

Fenris growled at her last comment…as long as Denarius lived and as long as they were together she was a target as much as he…she would be on the run if she chose him.

"Your white-haired elf…" Leandra began

"His name is Fenris." Hawke snapped

"Fenris, has the same accent as Orana, does he not? He is from the imperium just as she is. Elves in the imperium are slaves darling, and by the way your uncle tells me he dresses, it does not sound to me as though his master would have let him go willingly…"

"Fenris is not a slave." Hawke growled.

"All I'm saying darling," Leandra sighed, "is that there are plenty of other men in Kirkwall who could give you a much easier life."

"I'm not going to let you betroth me to some sniveling Hightown noble with a sick up his ass and his nose in the air."

"I never said it had to be some outside noble, darling. Look at the young men among your friends alone. What about the sweet Grey Warden who helps all the refugees?"

Fenris' hands balled into fists full of Hawke's sheets, and rage boiled in his chest at the mention of Anders. If she needed to leave him for political and practical reasons, he could be reasonable….but, if she ran into the arms of the abomination….no! He would never allow it!

Hawke rasped a harsh chuckle, "Anders is an apostate, mother…whatever happened to 'I don't want you to live the same life as me'? A bit hypocritical don't you think…"

Fenris relaxed a little.

"Well…how about that Varric fellow. I know he's a dwarf, but he's nobility in Orzamar, right? And he has connections to the merchants' guild. He'd make a fine life for you."

Hawke genuinely laughed this time. "Varric, denounced his title and avoids the merchants' guild like the blight. He's arguably an alcoholic as well as taken…by a badass woman named Bianca."

Fenris smirked.

"And what about that Sebastian fellow? He's really rather sweet, gentle, handsome…and devout. He's a prince too, is he not? Of Starkhaven…"

Hawke laughed even harder, "Yes, a Prince…And a Chantry brother with a vow of celibacy." She suddenly attempted a poor Starkhaven accent, "I vowed to take no bride but Andraste." She continued laughing, "Honestly, mother, I thought you wanted grandchildren."

There was an awkward pause.

"Mother, of all my friends that leaves only Merrill and Isabela. Merrill is again an elf, not to mention a Dalish elf, and an apostate. Isabela is a pirate who commandeers anything that moves. Not to mention, they are both women…and I doubt society would be onboard with that either. Look, Mother, I know you are looking out for me and I know you have nothing against elves personally. I know you want what's best and what's going to make my life easier. However, you need to trust me on this one. I know what my heart wants and what is good for me. I have traveled for years with Fenris, and while we have had our challenges in the past, things are really blossoming between us. I can't promise you marriage, and I can't promise you grandchildren. You were right, Fenris is an ex-slave same as Orana, then he has a lot of physical, mental and emotional scars because of that. I'm determined to stay with him though, mother. I have never felt this way about anyone before. You ran off with father against your parents wishes, and sacrificed a life where you parents turned their back on you and a Templar could imprison you for helping an apostate at any moment…but you loved father, and you chose him. I choose Fenris, mother. Things may not work out in the long run….but for now, he's what I want."

With that, Fenris heard the sound of her marching up the stairs. He sat up on the edge of her bed once more, hiding tears behind his fringe. She opened the bedroom door, and a shocked gasp escaped her lips. He did not meet her eyes as she gently latched the door behind her.

"Fenris?" she breathed, "What are you doing here…please don't tell me you heard everything my mother…"

"Hawke…" he interrupted in a voice wrought with raw emotion, "Did you really mean what you said…about how you feel for me…"

"Of course." She breathed.

He stood from his place on her bed and in three large steps grabbed her around the waist into a passionate kiss. She smiled against his lips. She smelled of pine and cranberries, her favorite soap. He tasted of tears.

When they broke the kiss, he stepped back shyly to catch his breath. She was blushing.

"Why are you here, Fenris?" It was not an accusation, it was a warm smile.

"I uh…brought you something." He stumbled to snatch the book and the flowers off the bed.

"Oh, Fenris…you are such a sweetie."

He smirked, "Do not tell Varric. I do not need a chapter on how the broody elf learned to love added to his book…"

She chuckled, and kissed him once more.

She was Hawke, she was the champion of Kirkwall and nobility. He was an ex-slave and an elf. They were in love…