Archive of Our Own

Last summer had been glorious at the Dalish camp in the mountains. There had been so much to learn and to do. Mornings in the forest with Erynon, increasing her tracking and bowmanship skills. Afternoons in Cúel and Zevran's aravel, grinding herbs and learning to make potions. Uncle Zev had teased her constantly over what a beautiful woman she was becoming.

"The spitting image of your mother," he would say. "I do not know of a higher compliment."

After which, Cúel would playfully punch Zevran on the arm, and he'd turn to her and say, "Except for you, my perfect rose. No one compares to you."

It was the nights, however, that had been Melody's favorite. Sometimes those warm summer nights were spent sitting around the bonfire with the other elves, singing traditional songs as they passed around homemade elderberry wine. Other nights, it was soft kisses and caresses, as she and Erynon would sneak off to a nearby stream that flowed noisily down from the mountains. She'd come to think of it as their place, hidden as it was behind a rocky slope, tucked away and secluded. A perfect place for a trist.

Their parting had been a sad thing, with promises of letters and future visits. A year had passed, however, and although there had been letters, she had not seen him since.

Recently, Melody's fear had been getting the better of her. Instead of butterflies clinging to her hair and her clothes, they seemed to have made a home in her stomach. She was afraid that as time passed, her feelings for Erynon might have changed once she finally saw him again. Was she only in love with a memory? Or even worse, what if he no longer cared for her?

Sister, stop torturing yourself.

Finally, after being irritable and morose all day, Melody smiled. It seemed whenever she felt strong emotion, Farrell's voice would intrude upon her thoughts. Words of wisdom or comfort, from her dear brother, were never far away.

It was time she thought of happier things, and truthfully she should be happy. Tonight was her party, given to her as a present by her aunt and uncle, the Princess and Prince of Starkhaven. Even though in years she was only eleven, Mama had cheerfully declared it her sixteenth name day party. Aging those five years in the Fade had been difficult for them all - especially for Papa. Melody often caught an unguarded look of sadness in his eyes when he thought she wasn't paying attention.

Yet for tonight, everything would be perfect, except for one small thing. The letter she'd sent to Erynon inviting him to her celebration had gone unanswered. She hadn't heard from him in months, and she didn't know whether to be angry with him, or afraid that something terrible had happened to him.

Farrell, she thought, please at least tell me that Erynon is okay.

But, as always when she asked that question, Farrell remained silent. What good was it having a god for a brother if he wouldn't tell her anything?

Aunt Bethany arrived then, with Amelia in her arms. Her little cousin immediately squealed and reached out to her.

"I thought you could use a distraction," Aunt Bethany told her with a smile.

"Who better than this little pumpkin?" Melody asked with a laugh, as she took little Amelia into her arms.

The trouble had started in Ansburg.

Everything had been going well, as he'd traveled with Zevran and Cúel south through Antiva, on their way to Starkhaven for Melody's name-day party. Catching the barge in Bastion, which would carry them up the Minanter River, had been easy enough - much easier than traveling through the wilds had been. Yet, even then he couldn't have ask for more capable companions to negotiate the long stretches of wilderness.

He'd been excited, happy even, to finally see Melody again after such a long year apart. Yes, he'd been nervous, too. Would she have changed very much? And although her letters had been filled with affection and longing, she lived in a big city, in the midst of wealth and privilege. Surely there were many young men, more appropriate than he, who would pursue someone as beautiful and vivacious as Melody Hawke.

The worst of it was, he doubted now that they would arrive in time for the celebration. She would think he'd ignored her, neglected her, and he couldn't bear the thought.

"Cheer up, my young friend," Zevran said, and slapped him heartily on the back. "Surely these fine sailors will find a way to free us soon."

Erynon didn't respond, only glared at Zevran. He didn't believe they would be free soon at all.

It had happened just as they'd met the supply ship in Ansburg - a sudden, violent storm had blown up. He'd never in his life seen such wind, and would never believed that waves on a river could be so high, as they slammed over the railing and washed over the deck in a relentless pounding. The barge had nearly capsized, even though its flat, sturdy length was usually secure in the water. Although they had not been tossed into the river, the barge had run aground, and was now well and truly stuck.

They would never make it to Starkhaven in time.

"Leave him be, Zevran," said Cúel, and Erynon was grateful. The Keeper's First had a way of reading people's moods, and knowing what they needed. Right now, he definitely wanted to be left alone with his less than happy thoughts.

So many people Melody knew and loved were gathered together in the palace's grand ballroom to honor her. Auntie Bela and Pardus were sampling delicacies from the banquet tables, which were piled high with food and wine. Aveline and Donnic were there as well, and Melody watched in delight as Isabela planted a kiss on Aveline's cheek, making the Guard Captain laugh. Ever since Donnic had returned to her, Aveline had been much less serious and somber, for which Melody was very glad indeed.

Uncle Varric was standing next to the huge casks of ale as if he owned them, and she laughed when the dwarf pulled Malcolm from behind one of them by his ear. Leave it to her cousin to try and pilfer a pint for himself. Even at only nine years old, Malcolm was incorrigible, especially when it came to trying new things. And getting into trouble for it.

Lastly, her gaze rested on Mama and Papa, where they stood near the entrance with Aunt Bethany and Uncle Sebastian, welcoming the arriving guests. Mama looked young and beautiful in her azure gown. So much so that people had remarked they looked more like sisters, instead of mother and daughter. As always, Papa had one hand at the small of her back as he nodded greetings, but Melody knew that he was also keeping his watchful eye out for anyone suspicious.

There were also the many nobles the Prince had invited, mingling with mages and students from the Circle, as well as Templars in their fancy armor. Who would have ever thought such a thing could be possible? Starkhaven had definitely become a model city, when it came to living in peace and prosperity. Even with all the turmoil in the rest of Thedas, once Sebastian had taken his rightful place as Prince, Starkhaven had done nothing but prosper.

Melody sighed. Yes, nearly everyone was here, but the few that were not, pulled at her heartstrings.

Her brother was not with her, when rightfully this should have been Farrell's party, too. Although he was never far away from her, and often spoke to her in her thoughts, she missed him terribly still. It was one thing to feel his presence, another entirely to be able to see him laugh, or feel his arms around her. Melody didn't begrudge his choice to join the Dalish gods, but she often wished he'd not left her so soon.

Anders could never have been here, anyway, because he'd been long dead before she even met him. Yet that still did not stop her missing him now. Occasionally, she'd dream of him in the Golden City, happily fulfilling his role as steward of that heavenly place. Those dreams felt like little visits, and she was grateful for them. Yet, again, it wasn't the same as having her friend with her in life. Mama reminded her that Anders was very different when she'd known him in Kirkwall, but Melody liked to think they would have always been friends, however or whenever they'd met.

Her eyes greedily returned to the door, hoping that she'd see more familiar faces enter the ballroom. Like Uncle Zevran and Cúel, to whom she'd also sent invitations. She'd actually hoped that they would have arrived with... with... Erynon. Her dear Eryn. The butterflies in her stomach began to flit and fly about as she thought of her most favorite person in the whole world. Why hadn't he come? Did he no longer care for her? Or had something happened to keep him away? Those same questions had endlessly ran through her mind in the past few days, and no matter that her brother had tried to soothe her with comforting words, she couldn't seem to stop her obsessive worrying.

The small orchestra was tuning up, nearly ready to begin the music. People cleared from the center of the floor in preparation for the dancing that would soon begin.

"Mistress Hawke?" came a voice from behind her, and Melody turned to see Lord Harvell's son, Gregor, smiling at her and holding out his hand. "May I have the honor?" he asked, and she noticed that behind him were nearly a dozen other young men, all smiling at her expectantly.

She put her most polite smile on her face and took his hand. "Thank you, I'd be delighted," she replied, and off onto the dance floor they went.

Melody was on perhaps her sixth dance partner, when she heard familiar, hearty laughter, even above the noise of the orchestra. She swiftly turned and saw Zevran and Cuel, standing with her parents on the edge of the dance. Her heart leapt within her as she scanned the crowd, hoping to see his most beloved face, but to no avail.

It was only when her current partner questioned, "Melody?" that she noticed she'd stopped in the middle of the set, and caused the whole dance to grind to a halt.

"Excuse me," she said, and disentangled herself from the young man, whose name she couldn't even remember. "Forgive me," she added, and ran from the dance floor to seek out Zevran. He would know where Erynon was. He had to!

Erynon stalked down the long corridors, his only thought to get away as quickly as possible. The pain in his chest was unbearable, fueled by the heat of a jealous anger unlike any he'd ever known.

How dare they touch her.

Yet even as he'd watch beautiful Melody Hawke swirl and twirl around the dancefloor with one handsome young man after another, he'd known he had no right to feel the way he did. Who was he, compared to the finely dressed nobles who'd held his girl in their arms?

Nobody, that's who.

Not really watching where he'd been going, a guard stepped into his path.

"Turn around," said the man. "No guests allowed in this part of the palace."

Erynon quelled the urge to scream at the guard, and instead turned on his heel and marched off. He'd never been in a place like this before, so large and polished and... so out of his league. His sensitive ears suddenly picked up the sound of crickets chirping in the night, and he followed it, wanting nothing more than to escape from the palace. He didn't belong here, and now he doubted he belonged with Melody, at all. What could he offer her in comparison to all of this? An aravel of her own and the stink of a halla herd? Surely she would only laugh in his face.

Erynon found the arched portcullis that led from the palace and into the walled garden, and gratefully slipped out into the night. The smell of night blooming jasmine filled the air, and he followed the sound of tinkling water until he came upon a carved marble fountain at the garden's center. Three stone lions with great, flowing manes stood upright on their hind legs facing each other, water spewing from their opened mouths. He sat on the fountains edge, and brought his feet up, before resting his head on his knees.

He never should have come here among these stupid shemlen. He belonged with his own kind, away from such pretension - away from the false smiles of murdering humans. What had he been thinking? These were the same sort who had killed his parents and left him an orphan. Among the Dalish, he'd lost sight of the fact that Hawke was a human, and therefore her children were more human than elvhen. Someone like Melody, raised to wealth and privilege, would never understand him. Worse still, who knew when she'd turn her back on him? When she'd leave him alone and rejected. It was inevitable, and he knew it.

What a fool he'd been.

Just a moment to pull himself together, and then he'd find his way back to the room he shared with Zevran and Cúel - find his old things and get out of these stupid, fancy clothes. He needed to leave as soon as he could. There was nothing for him here... there never had been.

Uncle Zevran had confirmed Erynon had come to the party, but she searched the ballroom, and he seemed to have disappeared.

"Sparrow," called Uncle Varric from his station near the kegs.

"You've seen Erynon?" Melody asked as she approached him, hope kindling within her.

Varric nodded. "Yup. He watched you dancing with the dandies for a while, before he took off." The dwarf pointed his thumb at the door. "Looked pretty broody, too, if you ask me."

"But why?" she asked. "Why would he leave?"

Varric chuckled. "Sometimes I forget how young you are," he said. "I think he was bitten by the old green-eyed monster."

"He was jealous? That doesn't make any sense," she said, and shook her head. She didn't care a fig for any of these stupid boys.

"If you'd seen how happy and beautiful you looked..." Varric offered.

"But... I was just being polite!" And she noticed her voice had made the sentence into a song. It was so embarrassing the way that always happened when her emotions ran high.

"Seems to me, you're just wasting time," Varric said with a grin.

He was right, and she pecked him on the cheek before running out the door in search of Erynon.

Melody didn't notice the look her parents exchanged as she flew from the room.

After a fruitless search of all the nearby rooms and corridors, Melody stopped. This was ridiculous, running around the palace like a madwoman. She needed to think. Where would she go if she were him? Of course, this huge palace would feel alien - so different from forests and fields and open skies. It hit her then. The garden, where else?

It truly was her favorite place within the palace walls. The courtyard garden was safe, secluded and so very lush - filled with the scent of myriad blossoms and the sound of birdsong by day, and at night the soothing hum of crickets and splashing water amid the winding paths. She moved through the shadows as Auntie Bela had taught her, extending her senses into the shrubs and flowering bushes around her, searching for him... searching for her heart's desire. Melody remembered the night, so long ago, when she and Farrell had sang the ballad of Hawke and Fenris*, and how she'd known, even then, that she would feel this way about someone, someday.

When she found him, he was sitting on the edge of the fountain, his face buried in his knees.

Not wanting to startle him, she softly called his name, "Erynon..."

His head jerked up, and the look in his eyes stopped Melody in her tracks. It would have been better if she'd seen anger there, or even hurt, but his eyes were brittle pieces of green ice - cold, without any feeling at all.

"Go away," he said in a monotone. "Go back to your party."

"Eryn, what's wrong?" She made her feet take another step forward, and held out her hand to him.

He ignored her gesture and swiftly rose to his feet. "I said, go back to your party. Eat your cake and dance with all your admirers."

Melody smiled. So Uncle Varric had been right, he was jealous. "You know I'd rather be here with you."

"Why?" he nearly shouted. "Why would you want to be somewhere you aren't wanted?" He asked, but went on before she could answer. "I don't need you, I don't want you. Now, go away!"

"You don't mean that," she said, and the song was back in her voice. "Eryn, please..." She suddenly felt like a little girl again, way in over her head, with these feelings cascading through her. More than anything, Melody wanted him to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. Aunt Bethany had warned her that love wasn't always nice, and now she was beginning to understand. Love could hurt. She felt tears sting her eyes.

He stalked over to her, and grabbed her shoulders. "Listen to me little Sethlin," he said in what was almost a snarl. "I should never have come. It was a mistake."

"But, you... you chose me, in the Fade. You chose me," she said through trembling lips. "And last summer..."

"Stupid girl, the Fade is just a dream," he told her. "And forget last summer. It was nothing important."

"You're lying," she said, beginning to see through his ploy. "You're just..."

Another voice interrupted them. A growling voice. "Remove your hands."

When Erynon saw Fenris walking slowly toward them, he dropped his hands and backed away from Melody. "I was just leaving," he said, without looking Fenris in the eye.

"No," Melody protested, and tried to reach for Erynon.

"No," Fenris also said, but added, "Melody, your mother is just inside."

Erynon watched as Melody shot him one last confused look before turning and retracing her steps back into the palace. He swallowed hard as he dared to finally look Fenris in the eye.

"What game are you playing?" Fenris asked without preamble.

"I..." he began, but Fenris cut him off.

"Do you not know what a rare and precious heart you treat like a child’s toy?" he asked.

That surprised Erynon. He'd expected Fenris to lecture him as a father would - censuring him for daring to want to be with his daughter in the first place.

Fenris shook his head. "We had this conversation once before," he said. "I obviously overestimated your intelligence."

"Once before?" stammered Erynon. Why wasn't he angry? Shouting? Instead, Fenris was lecturing him as if he were a stupid child.

Fenris narrowed his eyes. "You've put your chains on again."

Erynon remembered, then. It has been before they'd gone into the Fade to rescue Melody and Farrell. Fenris' words from that time echoed through his mind.

But know this. I was once a slave, and I remained a slave long after the chains were broken. Someday you must make a choice to free yourself, Erynon.

But what did that have to do with Melody? "I don't understand you," he told Fenris. "I have freed myself, I..."

"If that is true," Fenris said, "Then why do you not think yourself worthy of my daughter?"

Erynon opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. Could the blighted, tattooed elf read minds? He wanted to argue, tell the man before him he had no idea what he was talking about, but knew it was pointless. For some reason, Fenris understood him like no one else ever had.

"You should hate me," Erynon said, instead.

"In many ways, I am you," Fenris told him. "I have simply had the advantage being loved in a way that few ever experience." He laid a hand on Erynon's shoulder. "You have that same chance."

"But she's your daughter!" Erynon exclaimed. "Why would you want her to be with someone like me, when there are so many others..."

"It is her heart that has chosen you, not mine," said Fenris. "I simply trust her heart."

"But she's so young," Erynon said with a sigh. "What if it's just a crush, what if she doesn't really love me?"

Fenris laughed, and the sound was so unexpected, Erynon nearly jumped. The older elf said, "You have a lot to learn, Erynon, if you would risk losing your own true love for a what if or a maybe. Now come, you have some groveling to do."

How long had he been sitting in this room alone? It was comfortable enough, with the scattered, overstuffed chairs and a fire burning cheerily in the hearth. Even on a summer night, the evenings tended to be cool, but truthfully, Erynon was feeling a bit... overwarm.

He rose from his seat and began to pace - again. The urge to flee was still strong within him, but he needed only to remember Fenris' expression as he'd said, "Wait here," to stop his feet from carrying him out the door. That and, well, there was Melody. After talking to her father, he was feeling even worse about the way he'd treated her, the lies he'd told her. He did want a chance to apologize, at least, even if she did tell him to leave once he was done.

The door opened, revealing a wedge of light from the hallway beyond. Melody walked in, still dressed her her pretty pink gown, carrying a plate in her hand. On the plate was a very large slice of cake, with a lit candle stuck in the center.

She was so beautiful, with the candlelight flickering on her face, and in the dark waves of her hair.

"I haven't made my wish yet," she told him as she set the plate down on a small end table.

"Melody, I..." he began.

"Shhh." She placed a single finger over his lips. "It's time for my wish."

Melody closed her eyes and bent over the flickering flame. The gentle smile that curved her lips as she contemplated her wish caused an answering smile to form on his own face, he couldn't help it. He remembered kissing those lips, so many times last summer. The feel of her mouth under his, the taste of her as she yielded to him, had been sweeter than late-summer honey.

Her lips pursed, and she blew out the candle in a little huff of air. When she rose and turned to him, her eyes were shining and her mouth was still shaped in a little mou, as if she expected another candle to show up for her to blow out.

Erynon, however, knew of a much better use for those perfect lips, and without thinking, he closed the small distance between them and pressed his mouth to hers. When her mouth opened for him, and he tasted her truly for the first time in a year, it hit him just how crazy he'd been acting. How could he ever have thought he could live without this? Without her?

Melody purred and pulled back very slightly. "My wish came true," she said, and she lifted her arms to encircle his neck.

"You didn't ask for much," he told her as he rubbed his nose against hers.

"Hmph," she protested. "I asked for my favorite thing. My very favorite thing in all the world."

"Melody," he said. "You must know, I didn't mean what I said out there. You were right, I was jealous."

"Silly goose," she said. "You're talking too much." And she tilted her head up, offering her mouth to him once again.

This time he slid his arms around her back and pulled her close to him. She watched him with her dark eyes as his head slowly lowered, until their lips met ever so gently. Tasting and testing and learning each other all over again, as only young lovers can do.

Someday, he would truly make her his own, just as he would someday give himself to her fully. But, for now, he allowed his heart to feel, perhaps for the first time in his life, everything she was too him.

Everything.

The End