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On any other day, Kirkwall would have been fraught with tension. While the Qunari no longer waged a war on the city, the increasing tensions with the templars and mages put everyone on edge. Today should have been no different.
But there was a charge to the crisp air, Hawke noticed as he stepped from his mansion into the courtyard at the foot of the Viscount’s Keep. Red banners, freshly laundered, hung from the stone buildings. Paper lanterns of all shapes, sizes and colors decorated the trellises and walkways, and music lilted up from the merchant’s square.
Today was New Year’s Eve, and while there was much to fret over, it was also a day of celebration, a time to remember the year that was and look forward to the year that would be.
With Danarius no longer haunting Fenris’s steps, Hawke was thankful it had been peaceful enough that they had been able to rekindle the spark between them. In the few short months since Fenris had told Hawke how he felt, they had taken it slow, unlike before, and had learned much about each other.
One thing Hawke had learned about Fenris, was that he had never attended a New Year’s Eve celebration. Always in hiding or in service, Fenris didn’t know about the delicious treats, the plentiful drinks and the spectacular light show as the Chantry bell rang out for midnight. And for that, Hawke was extra excited for today.
Sidling his way through the growing crowds, Hawke made his way to Fenris’s home a few short blocks away, a package tucked tightly under his arm. As he grew closer, the smile beneath his thick, dark beard grew wider. His chest fluttered as he rounded the corner and knocked loudly on the worn mansion door.
Not waiting for an answer, for he was sure he wouldn’t hear it over the music in the courtyard anyhow, Hawke entered the old mansion and firmly closed the door.
“Hey, it’s me!” he called out in a sing-song voice.
“Back here,” came the muffled reply, but not from the bedroom as he expected.
Curiosity piqued, Hawke shifted the package to his other arm and followed the sound of glassware to the kitchen just off the main room.
Inside, Fenris stood on his toes, digging through a large crate sitting on the counter, setting aside smaller boxes and bottles. Dressed only in his leggings and an oversized tunic (was that Hawke’s?), it was all Hawke could do to not pull him into a hug at the mere domesticity of it all.
“From Varric,” Fenris answered Hawke’s raised brow. “Various treats and beverages, though he specifically said there was a bottle of Aggregio Pavali in here and I cannot seem to find it.” The digging continued.
Hawke set the wrapped package he had brought down on the counter and picked up another bottle of wine Fenris had dismissed. “Looking to redecorate already? I’m sure the stains from the last bottle won’t mind their inferior brethren joining them.”
Fenris huffed a laugh. “A tempting idea, however I am more interested in consuming the wine with you rather than redecorating.”
“Looks like Varric brought enough for both.”
“Indeed he did. It was on the stoop when I woke, I will have to thank him next I see him. Ah-hah!”
Triumphantly, Fenris pulled a dark green glass bottle from between two others that looked near identical. The label was a deep red with gold filigree around the edge and sure enough, it’s label read Aggregio Pavali. Without waiting a moment longer, Fenris reached for the corkscrew and poured two glasses.
“It will be better as it breathes, but it is delicious on first taste as well,” Fenris explained as he handed a glass to Hawke.
Hawke hummed lasciviously as he raised a brow and was promptly chided before both men clinked glasses and took a long drink. The glass lingered at Fenris’s lips as he eyed Hawke up and down in observation.
“I was unaware this was an occasion for special dress. I regret I am without the appropriate attire,” he frowned.
Hawke wore a deep red shirt with ribbon lined sleeves, as well as a half tunic of deep grey that was belted, all beneath a large wool cloak. In typical Hawke fashion - or more likely, Ferelden fashion - he finished the look off with a leather and fur mantle about his shoulders. It was quite the dashing look, though anything that wasn’t blood-stained was a step up for the both of them.
Taking another sip of the wine, Hawke set the glass down with a pleased grin and pushed the package he’d brought with him closer to Fenris.
“On occasion I am known to think ahead,” Hawke beamed. “Open it.”
“Hawke… I’ve nothing to offer in return,” Fenris said, running his fingers along the edge of the brown paper wrapping.
“Your company is more than enough of a gift, Fen,” Hawke smiled. “Go on, open it!”
Reluctantly he pulled at the string holding it closed and with painful precision, began to unfold the paper. Setting the paper aside, he slowly lifted the lid to reveal an ochre colored scarf, thick and soft with small tassels whose threads shimmered in the candlelight.
“It’s from a shop that imports goods from all over Thedas,” Hawke explained as Fenris ran his fingers gingerly over the material. It was so, so soft. “That’s made from sheep's wool from near where I grew up, softest there was.”
“It’s lovely,” Fenris murmured as he pulled it out to examine it more closely. “It smells like you,” he noted as he brought it to his face.
“Ah, sorry. It was in my home for awhile. I can have it laundered after—“
“N-no! No, it’s fine,” Fenris interjected as held the scarf closer. “More than fine. Perfect.”
Hawke smiled, noting the reddening tips of the elf’s ears. He nodded towards the box. “Keep going, there’s more.”
And indeed there was. A whole ensemble, tailor made though Fenris didn’t know how, was in the box. Warm, soft fabrics glided over his skin as he dressed, only momentarily hindered by Hawke’s darkening gaze and the occasional kiss.
“We should be going,” Hawke groused after a time, the bottle of Aggregio long gone. “There is so much to see and do—like looking at all the lights while sipping mulled wine, different bands playing in the different markets, so much food!”
“The part you are most excited about, I am certain,” Fenris smiled as he adjusted the scarf around his neck in preparation for the chill that awaited them outside.
“I am a man of simple pleasures, Fenris,” Hawke declared as he pulled him in for a kiss.
“Insatiable, none the less,” the elf smirked against his lips.
“Also true.”
Hawke held out his hand, bowing dramatically, though the boyish grin only grew bigger. Fenris couldn’t help but smile, even as he rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be pulled closer.
They walked slowly as the sun began to set, Hawke’s arm casually draped around Fenris’s narrow shoulders, the other moving animatedly as he told the elf of all his favorite New Year’s traditions growing up.
“And one time, Bethany and I strung up all of Carver’s clothes on the trees in front of our house, sort of as a joke but also as decoration for the next day’s events. Little did we know it would rain, so poor Carver spent First Day in his smalls!”
“I imagine that is quite unpleasant in Ferelden,” Fenris mused as he sipped the spiced wine he held closely between two hands.
“Much colder than the Free Marches, that’s for certain! Though it’s quite cold tonight,” Hawke mused, rubbing his beard.
“Hawke, I’m afraid it might be considered indecent for me to move any closer to you,” Fenris grinned, looking up at him with sparkling green eyes.
“I’ll take what I can get,” Hawke smiled, pressing his lips unabashedly to Fenris’s forehead.
The glowing lanterns swung gently in the light breeze, and with all the decorations and spiced foods, you could almost ignore the normal waft of Lowtown that tended to make its way to the market when the wind turned as such. On the walked, sampling delicious treats, watching performances and partaking in a healthy amount of spiced wine.
A roving band made its way through the crowd, as it moved from market to market, causing the two of them to part ways briefly and Hawke couldn’t help but watch Fenris from across the small crowd. With awe, the elf took in the festivities around him as snow began to fall lazily from the dark sky, at ease for the first time in a very long time. It warmed Hawke’s heart to see him happy, to know that his past was behind him, and whatever the future held, they were in it together. Things weren’t perfect and there was much to concern themselves over, but he was glad that at least for today, everyone was able to put aside their differences to come together in celebration.
“I must thank you,” Fenris said as they joined back up once the crowd thinned out.
“Oh? Do I get to choose how?”
Fenris elbowed him in the rib and Hawke took the chance to pull him close once more. They walked quietly for a moment, Fenris growing pensive. At an overlook they stopped, and Hawke watched Fenris watch the crowd. He did not turn to face Hawke as he spoke, quietly.
“Any New Year or First Day celebration that occurred, Danarius would have me by his side, on high alert. It was always a show, and it was tiring work. While the other slaves had a moment of respite now and then to partake in their own version of the celebrations in the cellars, I was never welcome to their merriment. I was an outsider, above them, of my own volition. Friends did not come easy when you were the master’s first pet.”
Fenris eyed the markings on his forearm in reflection. “Had none of that occurred, however, I would not be here. I cannot say where I would be otherwise, perhaps my life would have been better, or most likely much worse.” He looked up to Hawke, stepping closer. “What I do know is that of the things that have happened, you coming into my life has been a blessing I am not worthy of.”
Hawke slid his arm around Fenris’s waist, pulling him close. The elf watched him with an expression Hawke couldn’t quite read, but it softened as they stood there. Snow fell, landing and melting on Fenris’s cheek and Hawke closed his eyes with a smile.
“It is I who should be thanking you, Fenris. You are worthy of the world over, and I thank the Maker every day I get to see you. That you would willingly choose a hairy lout like myself," he chuckled, "I’ll never know, but I will never take that for granted. You are the world to me, and I cannot wait to share more of the world with you.”
It was gentle, then, the kiss that came. Tentative, as though both wished for it to never end before it started. Fenris wrapped his arms tightly under Hawke’s, burrowing them into the thick wool cloak at his back and pressed up on his feet with a smile on his lips. This. This is what Hawke wished for more than anything. That closeness, that happiness pouring from Fenris. Oh, Maker, what he’d do to give the one he loved the most that feeling every day.
A crackle gave way over head and the moment was ruined. Fenris tensed, his eyes darting to the shadows for what came next. But Hawke grabbed his hand with a smile and nodded up towards the Chantry, where the sky began to light up as fireworks went off.
“Midnight already?”
“Time flies when you’re with the one you love,” Hawke simpered, watching the lights explode in the sky through Fenris’s eyes.
“You’re staring.”
“I am,” Hawke agreed, pressing a kiss to the elf’s temple.
The Chantry bells began chiming, signaling the start of the New Year. In the distance, on the steps of the Chantry, a choir could be heard, and closer still a group of drunken revelers with their own out of tune song.
“You said earlier you had something you wanted to show me at midnight,” Fenris said skeptically as they watched the fireworks.
“Yes! I… It’s magic,” Hawke frowned. “Just a little something to bring the fireworks to us.”
Fenris moved back from their embrace, but held onto Hawke’s elbows. He smiled up at Hawke, running his hand up the bulky forearm of his lover to gently hold his hand. “With you, I feel safe,” he said quietly, looking up through snowy hair.
“Should you, though?” Hawke smiled, before looking down at where Fenris clasped his hand.
Fenris followed Hawke’s gaze and watched as a little spark came to life in his palm. It twitched and flickered, like a mini firework, though there was no heat. Fenris stared in awe, finding it hard to look away from the little ball of magic.
The hand around his waist pulled him closer as the final bell chimed to ring in the New Year. Hawke pressed his forehead to Fenris’s, his breath warm and spiced like the wine they’d been drinking. With a smile, Fenris looked up to see Hawke’s hooded gaze.
“Happy New Year, Fenris,” he said softly.
“Happy New Year, Nolan,” Fenris replied, gently closing Hawke’s hand and the gap between them in a chaste kiss that deepened as the crowds all cheered in the New Year.
