A great big thank you to Cloudywolf777 for the cover of the story! I have always admire this picture and it is a joy to have it on the cover.

Thank you very much if you decide to read this mess of mine. The story does eventually progress from light-hearted to very meaty with a bunch of mature chapters in the beginning. I hope you enjoy! :D

Chapter 1: My Lovely Tevinter Elf

Three stacks of letters sat piled on top of a worn writing desk. Holding a position of power meant endless correspondence. The quills alone were costing Hawke a fortune. She had considered buying a few geese for feather plucking. They'd also provide the occasional meal, if her dog did not eat them first.

In the last seven years, Hawke's penmanship had surpassed her skill in magic. The ability to make pretty scribbles seemed somewhat pointless since she spent most of her time trying not to die. In the case of Kirkwall, the pen was somewhat less mighty than the sword.

Hawke pushed the letters aside. She stared at the wall like a despondent child being lectured by a teacher. The rigors of being Champion left little time for fun. She took up her quill and drew a smiley face on a piece of parchment. It did nothing to help her sour mood. That was, until, she gave it a pair of pointy-ears and changed the smile to a scowl.

Fenris, thought Hawke. I miss him. She propped her head up with her hand and stared at the shadows on the wall. Why did he agree to help Donnic? I never thought I'd have to compete with his best friend for attention. Maybe I should join the guard and become a traitor so he can come hunt me down. It would be sexy to have him chase me all over Thedas. However, I'm not sure what he would do once he caught me, she sighed. At least I'd get to see him.

The eyes in a painting of one of her ancestors looked as if they were disapproving. She hated that picture. But, it became a temporary companion.

"What? You're dead. Stop staring." said Hawke. "It must be awful for you to see an apostate and an elf living in your house. I bet you're turning in your grave right now."

This is just sad, thought Hawke. I wonder what Varric is doing? I could go down to the Hanged Man—no, that would look unappreciative and desperate.

The "alone" time Hawke's friends had bestowed upon her to be with Fenris was starting to take its toll. Yes, she appreciated that they were being thoughtful; it was a first, but now she wanted their companionship. Bodhan and Orana were not great company. Hawke respected them and cared about their well being, but it was uncomfortable to confide in people living under the same roof. The relationship with Orana, in particular, had become strained with the increasing presence of Fenris. She was a constant reminder of a past he desperately wanted to forget. It was understandable. He had spent years reshaping his life. Hawke smiled when she thought of the progress he had made, even if the concepts of tolerance, politeness and not causing grievous bodily harm to others still occasionally eluded him.

"Well, I am certain I can find something entertaining to do without the company of one Tevinter Elf."

"Can you?" Fenris was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. His eyes were piercing, his face pensive as he stared unmoving. Hawke stood to greet him. It was impossible for her to wipe away the delighted smile.

I need to remain aloof, thought Hawke. If I appear too eager he'll go gallivanting off whenever he feels like it without me.

"Do you not know how to knock, Fenris?" Her voice had come across sterner than she had intended. Hawke only wanted to get the point across that she was annoyed, not angry.

Before more pleasantries could be exchanged, Fenris had moved. His lips were upon hers with ferocious precision. In a single movement, he had tipped her head back and parted her lips with his tongue. A sturdy arm whipped around her waist and closed any gap between their bodies. Long slender fingers cupped the roundness of her cheek, those that had given her pleasure in the bedroom. The feel of them alone, created heat in her body and the anticipation of a sensual night together.

Hawke melted into his arms. Fenris, who could rip a man in half, embraced her with such delicacy that it felt as if she were his most treasured item and would break with the slightest breeze. His touch made her feel precious. Even when he was rough and insistent, he still maintained restraint.

This kisses increased in fervor. For two people who had only been separated for three days, they were displaying affection that would be reserved for two people who were about to die in battle.

Maker's balls, thought Hawke. He's been here for five minutes and I'm ready to do unspeakable things with him, to him, under him, on top of him.

The smell of leather and wood smoke infused the air near Hawke. These were some of the scents she often associated with Fenris. It was intoxicating to have him close once again. She had paid her dues for three years, given him every amount of patience capable to a person and then some. It was time for him to give something back.

Sweat, from a line of his perspiration dripped onto her fingers. Slight smudges of dirt marred the blush of his cheeks. He had not bothered to freshen.

He could not wait, thought Hawke. He has come straight from Donnic's company to see me.

"Your smile is interfering with my tongue, Hawke," said Fenris.

Hawke laid her hands upon his chest. There was merriment in her eyes and obvious mirth in her voice. "You stink." She nuzzled near his ear. "Want a bath?"

The seduction in her voice did not go unnoticed. Fenris's voice was low and gruff when he responded. It sounded almost painful. His lips neared her ear. The warmth of his breath heated her skin.

Three days without you," Fenris paused; determination could be seen in his eyes. "And you ask if I wish to bathe this minute?"

It became an orchestrated moment.

A pair of shiny gauntlets landed with a thud near the edge of the desk. Fenris slid his muscular hands under her dress and cupped the soft flesh of her bottom. He lifted her with ease and placed her on top of the desk. Hawke tried to loosen the buckles holding his armor together, but his body never ceased to move, the elf was incensed with desire. His lips and hers rubbed relentlessly together. They were desperate to show their feelings, but it was messy and full of poor timing.

The heat from the candles caused both woman and elf to feverishly sweat. Hawke used it as an excuse to untie her finery. A pair of swollen breasts was exposed and they begged to be touched. Soft Elven lips suckled them and ripened the nipples to a peak. With his thumbs and forefingers, he gathered the erect flesh together and hardened them to the consistency of a rock. His tongue swirled around, and again, when he heard the breath catch in her throat.

He spread her legs and slid between them. Hawke could feel his erect cock against her panties, even through his leggings. Any loneliness she had suffered during his time away was forgotten in the moment. Fenris titled her head backwards and slowly brushed his lips along the outline of her jaw. The pale skin felt like silk.

The caressing stopped. Hawke's hands dropped from his ass with extreme disappointment.

Fenris leaned over her shoulder and retrieved a paper from the desk.

"Hawke, why have you drawn a childish representation of me?"

"Fenris, please tell me you did not stop to look at a doodle."

"Curiosity overcame me," said Fenris. "I have to wonder what possessed you to do such a thing. I thought the Champion of Kirkwall far too busy to squander her time drawing," he paused and finished with a droll look, "stick figures."

"I think I captured the scowl."

He smirked at her, his lips drawn in a thin line. "I should take my leave since my stench offends you so."

"Don't you mean you will try to stink with less offense?"

Fenris walked towards the door. "I am ignoring you now."

"Only for now, I hope?" said Hawke.

"We will see," said Fenris.