Disclaimer: Bioware owns all.
A/N: I adore Fenris, he's probably my favorite character, but the angst was calling. Inspired by my failed rivalry-mance with Fenris and a very, very bad day.
Absent Malice
She knew it would always come down to this, but somehow surprise still took hold of her senses, dulling her wits and rendering her near useless. It was a scene all too familiar and the hostility in the air spoke volumes. Reality settled in once more as quickly as it had escaped her notice and she adjusted the sweaty grip on her daggers.
It was of no use. Not now. He stood before her, dark against the night sky, his blood soaked armor doing little to hide the luminescence of his markings. Eyes that once danced with rapture now burned with hatred. Hands that once caressed now held blade to point against her.
She was a fool. How could she have thought to ever know him?
There was no choice and emptiness swelled in her breast taking with it the very air she breathed. Choking on steadfast resolve she moved with the speed of one primed for death. She knew he would not hold back, not give in. His pride demanded it be so.
A flash like quicksilver raked the cool air while wisps of smoke and ash clouded the skies, shrouding her movements. He was ready, powerful swings of his sword angling toward her. Her movements were fluid, deadly. She ignored the pain as it lanced down her arm, hitting the ground and rolling toward her target. She would need to get inside his guard, would need to end it quickly. Painlessly.
She would not have it any other way. Her pride demanded it be so.
The battle raged about her, the clash of metal akin to the ringing of a giant gong. She tightened her grip, white-knuckled and painful as she moved in, barely dodging his momentum. Sands shifted underfoot and she slipped, knocked back and winded. Readying herself for the blow to follow she stilled, finally recognizing the wolf for what he was.
Absence greeted her, welcome in the warm eve. The barest hint of a moment passed before she recovered, once more moving to her feet to take advantage of the opportunity. He was distracted, his defenses down and she slipped under his guard without hesitation.
Again surprise claimed her senses, shocked at the ease with which her blade penetrated his armor. In that instant he turned to her, the anger fading from his eyes only to be replaced by emptiness. Nothingness stared back at her, devoid of the one she once knew, and in her arms he fell.
Absent love. Absent malice.