Hello! I'm back with a Dragon Age 2 story after my way too long break from fanfiction writing. With summer coming up, I'll try to be better at updating new stories and if anyone has a request for a new story please leave a comment about the idea.
I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTER OR ORIGINAL IDEA FROM DRAGON AGE 2 OR ANY BIOWARE GAMES!
Hawke estate was silent and peaceful that tranquil night. Garrett Hawke closed the heavy book in his lap, pleased by its ending, slowly sinking further into the comfortable bed beneath him. He rolled his head gently and grimaced from the crackling pops that sounded from his neck and shoulders. Signing in satisfaction, Garrett Hawke read the title of the maroon covered book: A Man Knows Strength, but A Hero Knows Mercy by…
Interesting, Hawke thought as he switched the book between his hands and thumbed the rough pages, No author is named or given…After five days of reading this I never noticed.
Still frowning at the book, Hawke scratched his head. He sat the mysterious book beside his pillow with a hollow thunk. The sound echoed around the dimly lit bedroom. Hawke noted the fireplace growing weak with dying flames. Shadows from Hawke's numerous armors on the walls and sharpened weapons leaning against the brick of the fireplace danced across the room in a haunting waltz. The man watched the shifting shadows, losing himself in his own thoughts. He sank heavily into the pillows below him.
Maybe Fenris would enjoy reading this book. He nearly consumed the books The Wolf's Last Stand and Why the Warrior Grins. He couldn't stop raving over the main male characters. Hawke smiled tiredly. He might even want me to help him this time. His reading is improving, but he still gets frustrated over the larger words. Would be a shame if he quit due to his untamed rage.
A sudden creak lifted Hawke from his thought session. The large wooden door to his bedroom opened slowly as a slim figure slipped inside the room, closing the door as fast as it was opened. The lanky silhouette slicked forward with precise steps, its shoulders shifting dramatically with each sway of its wide hips. Hawke swallowed thickly, knowing exactly who this graceful silhouette was. The figure reached the remaining flickers of flame of the fireplace. A beautiful man was revealed. The beautiful man was Fenris.
His white hair was slightly damp from his usual bath each night after dinner. He wore simple gray tunic that revealed his athletic shoulders with black trousers that hugged his legs ever so nicely. Hawke felt a familiar heat in the pit of his stomach as Fenris continued to strut towards him. Sweat formed on Hawke's brow and he resisted the urge to wipe it away. The elf smiled like the devil when he gazed at his human lover's face. Hawke had once heard Fenris say he looked like "a fish that has gone without water for too long."
Closing his gaping mouth Hawke said, "You have finally decided to join me Fenris?"
Fenris chuckled low in his throat as he climbed on the bed. Crawling on all fours, Fenris' dark skin glowed a pale light from his elegant lyrium tattoos. His tunic slipped further down his shoulders, exposing his delicious collarbone and taunt chest.
"Nothing dare keep me away," Fenris responded in his silk voice. Reaching Hawke, he practically purred as Hawke's calloused hand caressed his face then massaged his pointed ears. The glowing elf curled against Hawke's chest while wrapping his legs around his lover's body. The two men sat in silence for a moment.
"It's strange, isn't it?" Fenris said, throat softly vibrating against Hawke's chest. "To have a night like this?"
Hawke titled his head to look at him, slightly concerned. "What do you mean?"
"To have a night where we need not worry of monsters or bandits appearing and cutting our throats in our sleep."
"Oh."
Fenris made an amused sound at Hawke. He nuzzled Hawke's rough face, always finding enjoyment at the small black hairs tickling his own beardless face.
"But I must admit, those dangerous nights were…exciting in a way. The rush of battle, the swiftness of retreat…Every moment was hated and enjoyed to the fullest," confessed the elf as his soft hands fanned over Hawke's chest. The human was wearing a red robe, comfortable dark trousers and, more importantly to Fenris, no shirt. Hawke could only smile at Fenris' pawing.
"Really now?" he asked mischievously, "Was there anything else you enjoyed?"
Fenris gasped suddenly as Hawke's hand traveled down his thin body, molding against his thick thighs and perk bottom. He twitched against the firm hands that mapped his every cress and muscle. The smaller male found himself straddling the grinning human, wanting to smash his face in.
"N-Not fair," hissed the elf as more squeezing on his posterior continued.
Hawke only laughed softly at the green eyed elf above him. Fenris' cheeks were flushed from the small touches. His body arched into his lover's sinfully, turning Hawke on more and more each second.
"Fenris," the human man groaned, "I want you. Now."
Fenris nodded his approval, his breath cast far away into a lust filled sea. Fenris felt himself being laid down on the bed as Hawke towered about him like a handsome pillar of safety. Hawke wanted Fenris to feel loved and wanted for the rest of his life, no matter the cost. Just as the situation started to get steamy, Fenris felt something hard hit his tensed hand that was grasping the sheets of the bed with all his might. A book titled…Fenris gasped and grasped the book tightly.
Hawke looked up at him from between the elf's long legs. "What's wrong?"
"This book," Fenris mumbled, "belonged to a scholar of Danarius…"
Hawke felt his heart drop into his stomach like a stone. Oh no…What have I done…? But Fenris did not accuse him of treachery or blamed him for owning the book, but stared at the cover in awe.
"Where did you find this?" Fenris asked suddenly.
"At a market a few years back from a traveling merchant…" Hawke responded, terrified of the idea of hurting Fenris because a simple possession.
"I remember the scholar boy…He was a small thing with red hair that no mother could tame. His teeth were constantly reaching out of his lips and his eyes wide with wonder…" Fenris said slowly, "He approached my one day, claiming he modeled a character after me in a book he wrote some time ago. The boy was very happy when I thanked him for honoring me with is literature skills. I meant it. I meant it very much."
Hawke gazed up at Fenris with sad eyes, thinking the tale was over, but Fenris continued.
"The next day he soot me out and gave me the book, saying he had made another copy over-night. As you know, at the time I could not read, but never the less, I took the book with thanks."
Fenris suddenly frowned his white brows in anger.
"Then Danarius found out about the boy and demanded his death. He despised the idea of another person winning my heart over. The boy was killed that day and Danarius burned the book in the scholar's pyre. I never found out his name or the location of the second copy of his book no matter how much I pleaded with Danarius. The boy's death has always haunted me…"
Hawke embraced Fenris quickly. The elf's wondrous eyes were shining with tears, but Hawke knew his pride was too strong to let them free.
"It's alright Fenris," Hawke reassured, "The boy did not die because of you. He died because Danarius was a cruel son of a bitch. Danarius was a demon in human skin that claimed he knew what loyalty and love was, but Fenris, you knew love before him and you found it without him. "
Fenris laughed weakly at Hawke's truthful words. They kissed passionately, this strange man and stranger elf, and embraced and moaned and cried out each other's names into the silent night they were blessed with. Hawke pulled Fenris close as they two fell asleep, forgetting about the bloody battles and troubles of their pasts. Just as Hawke surrendered to sleep he heard Fenris mumble something that sounded like, "I'll be borrowing that book for a while. I believe I deserve to know the last words of my scholar friend."
