This would be my first Dragon Age fanfic ever. Just got hooked after watching the online walkthroughs and this particular piece was inspired by a deviantart comic called 'Killing me Softly' by Wolfs-Angel17. Go see it if you have the time; really cute.
Anyways... this is a rivalmance based fic, but none of that throwing around stuff and screaming at each other. Just a clash of views on something and agreeing on others. Liking the other person, but strong disagreeing with what they think.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age II or anything else associated with it. I just own my concept of Hawke.
To Kill or Kiss You
Alessa Hawke was a pretty little thing with golden blonde hair that sparkled in the sun, and bright blue eyes that were the colour of the sky.
She was small in stature, and she had a slender figure that gave people the impression that she was a delicate, lady like creature who needed to be treated like glass otherwise she would break. Yet appearances were deceiving as Alessa could verbally spar with the best of them, glare down Qunari warriors who inspired fear and terror within most, and most of all she could stand up to Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard of the Templars without a trace of fear in her eyes despite the fact that she was an Apostate.
Which was significant as most Apostates learned at an early age to fear the Templars.
Alessa was someone whose wrath you did not want to bring down on yourself unless you were either her companion or just plain suicidal.
Thankfully, the elf she was pacing in front was one of her companions and not the latter. The latter usually got blasted to bits courtesy of a fire ball.
"Why must you always judge people for what they are and not for who they are? You need to learn to give people a chance, Fenris!" Alessa threw her hands up in the air, completely exasperated as this was not the first time they had this sort of conversation. "I am sick and tired of having to separate you and Anders constantly because you are always at each others' throats for some reason or another! And don't even get me started on whenever you two decide to team up on Merrill and yell at her!"
She liked him. She really did. For all his less than charming demeanor, she and Fenris were able to get along... when they weren't clashing over their views on how mages should be regarded.
It had started off as a good day. The sun had been shining, birds were singing and there was not a single cloud in the sky that signaled it would rain.
Breakfast that morning had been excellent and she had won a bet with Isabela.
And then it all went down hill from there.
Alessa had optimistically hoped that no in-group fighting would break out while she and her usual companions were just hanging out together and having fun. But once again, her pleas to the Maker went unheard as some comment from Anders about how mages -she was a mage, but even Alessa was getting tired of having to listen to Anders' continuous rants- were being unfairly oppressed set off Fenris on his usual 'all mages will become evil in the end and they should all be locked up and enslaved' tirade.
As much as Fenris' opinion on all mages annoyed Alessa to no end herself, she understood that the lone wolf's experience with Tevinter Magister Danarius, and his cruel practice and abuse with magic justified his hatred.
It didn't make his barbed comments hurt any less, though.
Just as Alessa was about to break up their argument yet again, Merrill then had the lousy timing of saying something that resulted in the mage and elf turning on her.
The Champion of Kirkwall couldn't remember everything that happened after that, but the memories most prominent in her mind were of Merrill bursting into tears, Isabela threatening to castrate the both of them for making the Dalish Elf cry and of herself smacking them both over the head hard, telling them to go back to their respective dwellings and cool off before she came over to their places to talk to them.
Talking meaning angrily telling them off.
She had talked to Anders first; he was always the easier of the two to talk to whenever he and Fenris had been feuding. All she had to say that yes, she agreed with his views on the unfair treatment towards mages in general and that was the end of that. As a fellow mage, she could sympathize with him, but that didn't necessarily mean she agreed with everything he said.
Particularly the part regarding the Templars. And that they all deserve to have their heads stuck on plaques to show future generations what happened to those who mistreated Apostates.
Alessa had no love for Templars herself, but she would not go as far as Anders in thought, much less act. There were good Templars out there who knew how to differentiate between the innocent and the guilty; it was just unfortunate they were overshadowed by the ones who reveled in mage hunting, regardless of whether the Apostate in question was a ruthless killer or an innocent.
Fenris was a little harder to deal with as, in Varric's exaggerated yet accurate words, he was always broody. The elf's unpredictable moods was why she always saved him for last if he was involved in whatever incident that needed to be discussed.
Like right now.
The former Tevinter slave was out of his armour and his gauntlets were unequipped, leaving him in only his brown sleeveless tunic and a matching pair of pants. It was rare for Fenris to be out of his armour, since Danarius or the men he hired to track him down could attack him at any time, but he removed it whenever Hawke would come over to just hang out together. Or in this case, argue with him about his treatment of certain Apostate teammates.
Fenris had done this ever since he nearly killed her during one of their particularly heated arguments. If she hadn't moved in time to avoid the spur of the moment attack, she would have been dealing with more than just a ripped open side that had bled all over his floor. Seeing her blood on his gauntlets had left a bad taste in his mouth. He made sure it wouldn't happen again by removing his armour whenever Hawke came over, even if it left him defenseless in the case of a surprise attack.
To be fair to him though, he had been drinking one of Danarius wines before she had come over to talk to him then and had been on his second bottle. Now he started drinking AFTER she left his premises, something he rightfully deserved in his opinion as Hawke could be incredibly harsh if she wanted to.
Fenris' arms were folded across his chest, his head turned to the side and his eyes closed as he waited for the unconditional leader of their rag tag group to finish lecturing him about his attitude. When Hawke had stopped talking, most likely waiting for a response from him, he let out a deep sigh. Running dark fingers through his snowy hair, he opened his eyes and turned to face her.
"You agree with me that there are mages who dabble in the dark arts, those who use their abilities against those powerless to stop them. That Templars are necessary in policing them," He said through gritted teeth, glaring at her. "Yet you keep an Abomination and Blood Mage within your employ."
His sharp ears picked up a muttered 'not this again' as she stopped in her pacing to look over her shoulder and shoot him her own glare.
"There are exceptions to every rule, Fenris. Do you honestly think I'm that stupid? Anders may be sharing his body with a spirit, but he is lucid and is in control most of the time. And Merrill is much more saner and in control of her abilities than the blood mages we have encountered in the past. In fact, her demeanor is much more friendly than yours. If I really thought they were dangerous, I wouldn't be keeping them in my company!"
Fenris snorted, running his hands through his hair again as her words served only to ire him even more. This woman was so... so... infuriating!
She agreed with him, yet disagreed with him. She agreed with the Abomination, but did not completely support his views. She accepted the members of their merry band for who they were, but at the same time some of her own ideals clashed with their individual beliefs. However, that didn't stop them from being drawn to her, for putting up with those they hated just so that they could be closer to her.
Even, he was loathed to admit, him.
"Your ideals on there being 'exceptions', on mixing views are so misguided..." Fenris' green eyes burned into hers accusingly, and he was snarling like his namesake. "It is absolutely maddening!"
"Excuse me?!" Hawke snapped back at him, evidently at the end of her own patience. "What the hell do you want from me, Fenris?! Not everything is as black and white as you paint it to be! I don't think all Templars should jump off a cliff and die, but I don't think they should oppress Mages as much as they do! There are evil mages like your former Master, but his actions shouldn't reflect on all of us as a whole! Grouping people together based on a few bad apples you come across isn't fair! You judge people you don't even know for something they can't help at all, and it isn't right! "
"It 'isn't right'?" Fenris repeated, wondering when she had gotten it into her head that her ideals were what was 'right'. "Name a mage who hasn't fallen to the temptation of a demon or of using blood magic!"
"Well I can name two!" Hawke's blue eyes blazed back into his green as she stopped in front of him and pointed a finger accusingly. "My father and sister! They were the strongest and kindest people I knew of and neither of them became Abominations or used blood magic! Not once! I'm not going to bother defending myself since you seem so damned determined to prove that I'm going to be a monster at some point during the future! It's the same with Anders, except he thinks all Templars are the evil ones! You two aren't as different as you think you are! Maker, why don't you even try to look past your biases?!"
The Champion of Kirkwall was unable to get another word out after that.
Fenris' arm shot out. His fingers wrapped around her throat, and he yanked her forward roughly before he was even aware of what he had just done. Her sky blue eyes went wide, and for a moment he saw fear pass through them before they hardened and she stared back right at him in defiance.
Green eyes met blue as the former Tevinter slave and the Champion of Kirkwall came to a stand still. Standing strong behind what they believed in, but neither backing down.
After a long silence passed between them, Hawke spoke.
"Going to kill me?" There was an eerie calmness in her voice that suggested she wasn't afraid of him deciding to snap her neck right there and then.
His fingers tightened their already firm grip on her, but Hawke did not waver. Not in the fact that he could kill her if he squeezed her throat even harder, or that his green eyes were glaring hatefully at her.
Fenris did not know how long they stood there, attempting to stare the other down. It could have been only seconds, perhaps minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Eventually he let go of her, but didn't pull back his hand right away.
Instead, he lightly stroked her skin. Seeing the raw, red imprints of his own fingers marring her flesh, he felt disgusted with himself. Despite his anger, he had not intended to hurt, much less kill her.
It was always like this.
Him saying how much he hated mages and their kind, and that his hatred extended towards her due to her compassion towards some she thought 'deserved a second chance'. In return, she harshly called him out on just how hypocritical he was in his own opinions of how he hated slavery, but was perfectly okay with mages being locked up against their will for something they couldn't help. It wasn't like they asked to be gifted with magic in a world that spurned them for it.
She was mostly right in all of her arguments, if he bothered to actually think about her words. He just hated to admit it because it went against a lot of what he had convinced himself was certain fact years ago, after he had escaped from that wretched Tevinter Magister.
He started when he realized just how close they were. His face was inches from hers, and all he could do was look into her unwavering eyes.
How? How could she hold such unwavering conviction? How could she believe so strongly in her beliefs, her ideals, and refuse to back down when they were questioned by people like him?
It was because she understood. She was a mage and the magic in her blood ran strong, but she did not spurn him on his thoughts for holding contempt towards her and those like her. Yes, she argued with him about a lot of things, but she always regarded him as an ally in the end.
"Why can't I hate you?" Fenris growled, resting his forehead against hers. "You are an Apostate. You speak that not all mages deserve to be locked up. You are everything that I loathe. And yet..."
...I can't bring myself to hate you.
"Sometimes I... I'm not sure if I want to kill you or..." He let out a sigh that relayed how angry, how frustrated he was towards Hawke... and himself. He had nearly killed her again because he had let his temper get the better of him.
"Or what?" Hawke asked him softly, deeming it safe to speak now that most of his temper had died down.
Fenris didn't reply.
At least with words.
Alessa's blue eyes widened when the elf's lips covered hers, his arms wrapping around her body and pulling her smaller and slender frame closer to him. His lyrium markings pulsed a soft blue as he embraced her.
It had happened all too fast for her mind to register what just occurred. One second, he had been staring at her with his strangely pain filled, conflicted green eyes and the next, he was kissing her and holding her close as if she was his lover.
The mage blinked rapidly, unsure exactly of what to do in a situation like this.
Mother had despaired of her never finding a husband due to her incredibly tom boy nature, and Carver had always stated that no man would want to marry her should they ever discover her true nature. Alessa had always hit her brother for that one.
And yet here she was, being kissed by a man for the first time in the twenty-four years she had lived.
Kissing. Which was usually associated with romance.
Alessa was not an expert on romance, and did not pretend to be. Her only knowledge on the topic came from hearing the romantic story of how her mother and father had eloped, her mother throwing away everything she could have had -a cushy, comfortable life as a noble- to be with the love of her life, an escaped Apostate who the Templars hunted at every turn when she was younger.
All the eldest daughter ever got out of romance was that when people were in love (or thought they were), they started acting stupid.
But before she knew it, Alessa was relaxing in his embrace and kissing him back as she closed her eyes and reveled in his warmth; both from her lips and the close proximity of their bodies.
It wasn't until now, the moment that their lips connected, that she realized what that pain filled gaze he often gave her meant. The pain filled gaze that usually came after their arguments, in which he would spitefully tell her he hated her and her kind and she in return would tell him to shut up.
They had a strange relationship that drove the others crazy. Some days they were good friends. Other days they weren't talking to each other.
But they didn't hate each other.
Eventually they needed to breathe again. When Fenris pulled back, his green eyes flickered with various emotions.
Frustration, anger, pain, love...
Alessa wasn't sure which one.
Their faces were inches apart again, their lips nearly touching.
This time it was Alessa who took the initiative as she pressed her lips against his warm ones. Tomorrow she would try and figure out what had happened. But for now, she would going to enjoy the moment.
And I'm done! And no, they don't go to bed together. My version of Hawke is a virgin and will remain one for quite a while until she and Fenris get it through their thick heads that they like each other.
This is a rival romance, but lighter than the game portrays. The rival part comes from their conflict over how Fenris thinks that mages are evil and will eventually become evil if they aren't yet. Alessa, on the other hand, thinks that the broody elf needs to stop judging people. I decided to make the rivalmance in this... a lot less softer than the one portrayed in the game.
Hence, conflict.