((My idea of a rivalmance is probably different than everyone else's. xD))
If anyone saw the look on Fenris' face right now, they'd know to steer clear. The scowl that soured his lips hurt more than the slice across his midsection. He and the apostate, or Anders as Hawke kept telling him, had gotten into another brawl and if it weren't for the blood mage girl Merrill, someone's head would roll. Isabela often took note that Merrill was the only one aside from Hawke that could stop a fight between the two of them, but Fenris felt sick at the very thought of something with that abomination, or rather, either abomination. Anders, Merrill, any mage. Even seeing Hawke's sister use magic made him blind with rage at times.
He winced as he stood from the table, his chest sore still. But he had had worse, so for now, he could wait until it healed. His plan to begin searching for more alcohol was quickly interrupted by a soft knocking at the front door. Walking to it slowly, he grimaced as the noise echoed incessantly. Fenris already knew who was bothering him before he even opened the large wooden door. "Yes... Blood mage. What do you want?" The young Dalish elf stood in his doorway, satisfied worry disappearing off her face. "Oh, nothing really. Hawke just suggested I check on you and Anders. Make sure nobody is dying somehow!" Before Fenris could shoo her away, Merrill's eyes dropped on the bandages, and she let out a quiet yelp. "Is that from the fight?" He stepped back with every movement she made towards the injury, a sneer growing on his tanned face. "I don't need your assistance, Merrill." The young mage seemed distraught for a second, but nevertheless backed off. "Well... Alright. I guess I'll go check up on Anders then..." Even as she spoke and her body twisted to go, the two elves' eyes lingered in contact for just a few seconds. As he watched her walk away, Fenris couldn't help but wonder what exactly that was. It had never happened before. Then again, the two of them had never been alone before. Quite frankly he didn't like this very much.
Groaning in discomfort, he walked away from the door, closing it as he went, and unraveled the bandage. The cut was already healing, but it was the bruising around it that Fenris could do without. As he set about stretching to get the numbness out, another knock came at the door. Before he could even respond though, the elf watched Hawke come walking in. "Fenris! My favorite grouchy-as-all-hell elf! How're you?" Fenris looked down at his bruised wound and shrugged. "Disappointed I did not get the chance to take the abomination's head off. And thank you for wasting both Merrill's and my own time by having her come check up on me." Hawke laughed, nodding. "Yes yes, but you two never spend any time together." Fenris nearly growled at the implications. "If you're trying to match us up like Varric does, I'll throw you through a table!" The Champion laughed harder, motioning for the elf to calm down. "I'm not playing matchmaker here, promise. It's just that everyone's spent some time with one another except you two. I can't stop you and Anders from fighting, but I can atleast make you and Merrill tolerate each other." Fenris shuffled in his stance, glaring at Hawke.
"Yes well..."
"Well what?" The Champion smirked.
Fenris let out an exasperated sigh, "Nevermind. Now either leave or help me find some more wine." He waved his hand around to show various boxes. Hawke stood still for a second before shrugging and going to a box and opening it. "So Merrill..." A groan was heard and Hawke couldn't help but snicker. This was going to be fun.