A/N: It's kind of a miracle that I updated this story so quickly, isn't it? Again, you have my wonderful beta to thank because she keeps me inspired lately. Without her, I'm sure it would be another six months or so before I felt like tackling another chapter, especially one like this. This was interesting to write, I really explored dialogue toward the end, but hopefully it doesn't drag too much. I kind of like a bit of fluff sometimes, so enjoy.

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Several days later, Lyra had recovered from the blaring hangover and had had plenty of time to work through her warring emotions and thoughts. Chatting with Aveline and Varric had somehow proven to be helpful and enlightening despite the dwarf's wily antics, much to Lyra's benefit. She was still somewhat hesitant to go diving into a whole new commitment only days after having ended the previous one, but perhaps she was over-thinking things. They could take things slowly and take more time to get to know one another than she ever had with Anders; that was, if he still wanted to try. She would not blame Fenris if her reaction to him had hurt his feelings too greatly to want to try again. She had not flat out told him no, she reminded herself, but she had said she was not ready. How could she go from unsure to ready in only a matter of days? She shook her head, telling herself to stop thinking. She just needed to find the elf and have a talk with him, to see what was going on between the two of them without her thoughts clouding up her emotions.

Walking through Hightown, she scanned the crowds for the elf, wondering if he might be out for the day, though she highly doubted it. She was making her way toward the mansion, if she was honest with herself, but skimming just in case. There was no sign of him by the time she reached the sprawling, moody estate. It was as gloomy as ever, dank and dark in comparison to the buildings beside it, but somehow it gave off the feel of Fenris. Everyone knew it was his home, and did not find any offense at the way he chose to keep it. Or, perhaps they were too afraid of him to bother saying anything, Lyra mused. That would be more likely, but she personally had grown fond of the way the mansion was. She strode up to the door and knocked twice, then stepped back to wait for an answer. She looked up at the sky nervously, wondering what she should say and how to begin. Maker, why did she have to get so anxious suddenly, just at the thought of speaking to him after what had happened? Her fears turned out to be unfounded, because there never came an answer. She knocked again, and called out his name, but the result was the same.

He was angry with her, then. Too angry and hurt to even open the door. Her shoulders drooped and she turned around sullenly, looking down at the cobblestone street. She would just have to try again a different time, she thought grimly, but who was to say he'd answer then. She started walking back through town, not really thinking about where she was going. Her mood had dropped intensely as she thought about how selfish she'd been the past week. She had gone the whole time since the celebration thinking only about herself and her own confused feelings, never having once bothered to worry about how the elf was taking it. What if he had completely given up and decided to leave now that there was nothing really holding him here in Kirkwall? That thought depressed her even more as people blurred right past here, unnoticed.

She wandered out into the Wounded Coast, killed a couple of bandits who did not realize who she was, and then took a path down into a little lake area that she had discovered one day on her own. It was a secluded place that was difficult to find, making it the perfect getaway for someone like her, who was usually bombarded by needy people in search of assistance. Not even the thugs and apostates had found this place before, so it was all her own. She smiled as the glittering lake came into view, long-limbed trees draping over it in a serene embrace. The sun was high, reflecting brilliantly off of the water's surface, and casting shaded spots beneath the high treetops. It was the picture of peacefulness in nature, and it was inviting and warm to the eye. It eased some of the pent up emotions Lyra had been fighting off, and she knew at once her feet had led her to the right place for her at this moment in time. She made her way down to the lake's edge and lowered, dipping her hand into the cool water just to feel the way it rolled out of her palm to glide back down into the pool. The sun beamed onto her dark hair, warming her and making her close her eyes, enraptured in how healing being here could be. After a few more minutes, she turned and sat herself down beneath a tree, perching herself up next to the sturdy trunk. Her eyes flickered shut, and then she was out for a nap in the middle of the afternoon in a place that nobody knew about.

She woke again to the sound of rustling, of shifting clothing as someone moved and bended nearby. She blinked groggily at first, but when the realization that it could be trouble reached her, she immediately reached for her scabbard and made ready to draw her blade, trying to hurry to her feet.

"No need, Hawke, it's only me." Came a voice she knew well.

She froze, and looked over toward the water, seeing Fenris crouched beside the bank as he fiddled with something she could not see. She let go of her sword and tried to relax, but she could not help but wonder how he had gotten here. She was still waking up though, and words were slow to form upon her lips.

"Have a nice nap?" He asked, turning his head over his shoulder and gaze at her, his green eyes shimmering in the sunlight.

She nodded, glancing down shyly. "I…was looking for you earlier."

"I know."

She looked up again, confused, and not sure how to respond to that. The elf rose and turned around, revealing that he'd been tying together a net to lower down into the water, probably to try and catch fish with. So, that was how he had been finding fish lately; the market had been short on stock ever since the Right of Annulment had been invoked and the following battle had ensued. That would mean he had known about this place for some time, though, and she had been sure she was the only one. He walked over to her and sat down, no emotion clearly written on his face.

"When I went home, someone told me they had seen you knock and then leave." He elaborated.

She nodded slowly, understanding then, but wondering who that someone had been. She would not have been surprised if Varric had been following her around and had been attempting to 'help' her out. It was very like the dwarf, she figured, but it hardly mattered. She also wondered where Fenris had been before, but the thought slipped out of reach. All that mattered was that Fenris had found out.

"How did you know I was here?" She ventured, still cautious.

He gave her a half smile before replying, "You always come here when you're troubled."

She blinked. "I've never told anyone that, though."

"You did not need to, I have eyes."

She was taken aback, so unaware of how much attention he had paid to her in the past. It could almost be taken the wrong way, the comment he just made, but she rather found it endearing. It implied that he knew her just from minding the way she acted, how she responded to things, and where she went; he had not needed words to gauge her moods. She felt bad for never having taken the time to pay him the same attention.

"Why were you looking for me, Lyra?" He asked, his expression changing to one of ambivalence.

She hastily looked down again, "I…I just needed to apologize."

He said nothing, sitting silently as his gaze lingered, still waiting, almost tangibly hopeful.

"For the other night. I did not intend to hurt you." She added.

He smiled and looked over at the lake then, breathing calmly, "You are too good. I should be the one apologizing, for pushing you when you were obviously not ready yet. I was hasty, and we had both been drinking the wine as if it were water."

Lyra watched him intently as he spoke, and she realized he had been agonizing over this as much as she had. She felt amazed that he would even think it was his fault, when surely the blame was all hers, but nonetheless it encouraged her that he could say those things, and felt compassion for her situation. She did not know what inspired her to do so, but she reached over and grasped his hand. He turned his head quickly, looking first at their touching hands and then fixing his eyes upon her own, a slight glow flickering in his tattoos as he did so.

"Surely, it wasn't…just the wine." She dared, feeling bolder.

His eyes flickered slightly, perhaps weighing his response, "You were so beautiful in that dress." He breathed out.

Lyra's cheeks reddened and she looked down again, but a small smile had grown out from the edges of her lips, spreading over her face in a poorly concealed delight. Her stomach fluttered at his tone, and the way he began to stroke her hand with his thumb. He reached out for her, his other hand dipping under her chin to force her to look at him.

"Of course it was not the wine."

They gazed at each other for a couple of moments, enjoying the small touch and the way they could simply look at each other without a need for words. The moments seemed to stretch out forever, when it was really just a few stolen seconds, but they were meaningful ones all the same. Fenris retracted his other arm then, seeming to want to give her space, and she noted that appreciatively even though she would not have minded it if he not done so.

"I never realized…" She tried to say, but did not know how to finish. Never realized what? How he felt? How she felt?

"I know, though sometimes I felt as if I could not be any more obvious." He replied, shrugging humorously at the end.

"I was blind." She apologized.

"No, Hawke. You were trying to be good to the undeserving mage, not worrying about the foolish notions of someone who could offer you nothing." He frowned.

"I should not have ignored you so, though." Was all she could think of to say.

"You did not ignore me, Hawke. You helped me in ways no one ever has before; because of you Hadriana and Danarius are both gone forever, and I am free."

"You could have done that on your own, though, Fenris."

"You think? I am not so sure. You have a way of knowing what the right path is when I would normally be confused by my hatred." He disagreed, looking seriously at her.

"I think you would have found the right way in time. You would have figured out that hatred only leads to…destruction."

"Then you have more faith in me than I do." He stated bluntly.

"We all need someone to believe in us, for our own sake."

He nodded at that, but sighed and looked over at the lake once again. The sun was not as high in the sky as it had been before, and Lyra figured she must have been snoozing for a couple of hours at least. It was late afternoon, nearing evening, and she had been out here the better part of the day. She had not expected the elf to find her here, nor to be having this conversation, but she was glad it was happening. It was enlightening for the both of them, it would seem.

"You know, Hawke, I tried to leave once."

Lyra's eyes widened at the thought of him feeling like he needed to leave, for any reason. The idea of waking up and heading out into Kirkwall and knowing there was no chance of seeing him one day frightened her to no end. It was made worse when coupled with the idea that is was probably because of her that he had felt like he needed to go, most likely due to her being around Anders all the time, the mage who Fenris despised openly.

"Why? And what made you come back?"

He continued to gaze off at the lake as the sun lowered subtly as the evening grew on, "It was a couple of years ago, before I discovered my sister's whereabouts. I had been thinking about…things, and had realized I was being unrealistic, that it might serve everyone better if I just disappeared and was not an issue any longer." He paused for a moment, unsure. "There was also the thought of how the mage was treating you bothering me. I could not bear to watch it any longer without having to do something, something that I did not think anyone would appreciate. So, I left." There was a sadness in his eyes then, as if he remembered the feeling of when he departed from Kirkwall, the emotions all sweeping back to him in an overwhelming wave of remorse. Lyra wanted to do something, but she did not know how to comfort him, other than to squeeze his hand gently to remind him she was there. He blinked, and continued, "I could not stay away for long. I was only a couple of days down the Wounded Coast when I began to wonder who would be there to look out for you in case the mage lost control. The idea of him hurting you was intolerable, and I would never forgive myself if you came to harm from him while I was away, running away from my own self-pity." He looked at her again, finally, and smiled. "There is something about you, Hawke. It calls to me, sings to my blood, and I simply cannot stay away. Surely, I would find no purpose in any place other than by your side."

Lyra listened quietly, taking in everything he said intently and realizing the depth of his feelings. She had never thought Anders capable of harming her, not physically anyways, but after what he had done, she now knew that she had definitely been in danger's way for some time. She had never realized that before, but somehow it was comforting to know that Fenris had been there standing vigil the entire time, trying to make sure nothing would come of it. Nobody could have known what Anders had been planning, though, she thought darkly.

"I'm very glad you came back." She chimed quietly.

He only looked away with a quaint smile still etched upon his face. She gazed at him fondly, appreciating the angles and chiseled features of his face, how content he seemed to be for once. He was handsome by elf standards, but even in human standards she found him to be quite beautiful. The sunlight brought out the green hues of his eyes, and the lightness of his hair, framing him in a portrait scene of a wanton gaze looking off for some unknown fancy. She leaned over to him and lifted her free hand, raising it to his face. He looked over, startled at first but instantly relaxing as she touched his cheek, gently. She was amazed yet again by how warm he was, despite the cool air that usually followed him around. Looks could be so deceiving, she reminded herself. He sighed into her touch, and she brushed her finger over his lips, remembering the way they had felt pressed against her own, hungry and longing. Her eyes wavered for a second, and they both seemed caught up in a spell.

"Lyra," He breathed, "please, let me kiss you."

He peered at her, waiting, and she could not find her voice in that moment. He did not wait long though, and when she did not say anything in the negative, he leaned into her and softly found her lips with his own. It was not the same way it had been the other night; this was sweet and tender, almost a sort of offering and accepting between the two of them. His breath washed over her, warm and flavored sickly sweet like grapes, and the fluttering in her stomach sped up as she realized she was very much enjoying the way they meshed together. It was somewhere between a chaste kiss and something more, but not too much, not the begging hunger that had consumed him before, though she knew that was probably still residing in him somewhere. She had liked that too, but this was just as nice, for a different reason.

His hands stroked her short hair, so much like his own save for its color, as the slow kiss eventually came to an end, a warm one though. They sat with their foreheads leaning against each other for a few moments, eyes closed and breathing faintly as the light grew dimmer. The enchanting spell still lay around them, weaving magic in the air and whispering of promises yet to come. Lyra felt assured in what she felt for him now, what she had been denying to herself all along and what he had been waiting for. It was funny how one kiss suddenly could put everything back into perspective and clarify what should have been obvious from the beginning. It had taken them over a decade to finally reach this point, when only a kiss would have sufficed to show it to them before.

"I have always hoped for this." Fenris commented softly, almost wistful.

She opened her eyes. "I have as well, I just did not realize it was meant to be with you."

He smiled at her, pleased with the answer.

"I may not be ready for…everything all at once, though." Lyra added cautiously, hoping it would not ruin anything. He had been waiting for years as it was, so he might not be willing to take things too slowly.

But, he nodded fondly, not seeming to be bothered by it. "We have all the time in the world."

She smiled, not sure she deserved for him to be so understanding, but glad of it. "I…liked that." She said shyly, smiling like a little girl.

He grinned in response, the most playful she had ever seen him before, "There is plenty more where that came from."

They laughed for a moment, and then leaned in to enjoy one another once more, getting used to the feel and taste of the other. It was like young people first learning how to act around each other, figuring out who fit each other and how well, only none of the initial awkwardness was lingering between the two of them; it was natural and comfortable, and so much better than Lyra had ever realized it could be. She was sad to stand up and claim that it was time for her to be going back to her estate for the evening. She had some duties she still needed to take care of as Viscount, and she had been neglecting them the entire day. Fenris escorted her home, never releasing her hand as they strode through Lowtown and Hightown, but neither caring who saw.

At her doorway, they stopped and shared yet another kiss before she bid him farewell, and then he was gone, and she was left in her lonely home. Not even Sandal and Bodahn remained in the estate, only the little elfin girl whom Lyra had employed for a few years now. She made her way to her study and sat down, cracking open the account books and eyeing the numbers warily. She tried to focus on them, but somehow her thoughts kept finding their way back to a certain pair of green eyes, and she ended up not getting much work done after all. She was happy though, and for once felt like her future held something bright for her to look forward to again. She smiled the most that evening she had in a very long time, and she hoped it was only going to get better from there on out.