This is my very first attempt at writing fiction of *any* kind, so any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. I came late to Dragon Age II but have played through 3.5 times so far. I'm thoroughly smitten with Fenris and the voice of Gideon Emery! Fengirls FTW! This story is just channeling through me, so I have no idea where it's going. I hope you enjoy it! All settings and characters owned by Bioware, so don't sue me. grin Huge (((hugs))) to sassyXviolets for my first positive review!
She slammed her fist against the bedpost in frustration, seemingly for the millionth time. She winced at the pain radiating from the heel of her hand but shook it off. She'd had worse and her heart ached far more than any visible bruises she might bear. It had been three years, three years since that night, three years since he had simply walked out of her bedroom and out of her life.
But that was wrong; he wasn't out of her life. She worked with him nearly every single day, felt his gaze upon her back as they traipsed all over Kirkwall righting wrongs and earning coin. Not once in those three years had he ever mentioned that night, and neither had she. She'd be damned if she was going to let him know how much he had hurt her. Besides, that nasty little voice in her head kept reminding her that if she did sit him down to talk, he just might confirm her worst fears and laugh in her face that she was still thinking of him after all this time.
It was obvious she meant nothing to him. Why else would he act like that night had never happened? Yes, there were those rare moments when she caught him staring at her with those mossy green eyes brimming with some unspoken need but he always tore his gaze away before she could speak. Maker, she ached for him so deep that her soul was near to shattering into a million pieces.
"Snap out of it, you have bloody work to do," she yelled at her reflection in the mirror. There was no use crying over what could never be. She resolved to finish pulling herself together and get on with the day at hand.
"Don't you dare leave without eating something, young lady," Her mother chided her as she entered the kitchens. "You may own this home now, but I'm still your Mother and I'm worried you're losing too much weight running all over Kirkwall like you do. Promise me you'll eat."
"Yes, Mother. We're headed out to the Wounded Coast, so I definitely need a full belly. Maker knows what nastiness we might meet out there." Hawke assured her, "Also, I'll be taking Titus along with us. Bodahn is getting frustrated having the dog always underfoot. Yesterday, Titus gnawed off half of the table leg and Sandahl's enchantment tools spilled all over the floor. I'll need to take along extra food to keep him happy on the trek."
"Well, I'm sure he'll be happy to enjoy the sea breeze and your company. Just make sure he doesn't gnaw on Anders again. That man scares me when he gets angry; you're not safe around him."
"I know. He seems to be losing control more often of late. But, I can manage him." Hawke pinched the bridge of her nose, "Besides, I'm not taking Anders. I simply cannot endure any more puppy dog eyes or whining about the plight of mages."
"Good," her Mother handed her a pack filled with foodstuffs and extra supplies, "I know I say this every time, but be safe. I love you!"
"I know," Hawke replied, "I love you, too, Mother."
They shared a quick hug and Hawke finished off her mug of tea. She set about gathering the rest of the supplies she'd need for the trip to the Wounded Coast. Their challenge today was to locate a missing Qunari detail. How on Thedas it was possible to misplace a bunch of hulking, horned Qunari giants was simply beyond her, but she wouldn't turn down the gold. The thought of a few blissful days camping on the beach held even greater appeal.
She shouldered her pack and left home for the bustling streets of Hightown, making her way past the merchants without succumbing to temptation and buying some new piece of armor or a pretty bauble. She ventured down the road to the entrance of Lowtown. Despite the early hour, the residents were already out in number and she had to negotiate the crowds carefully to avoid slamming her pack into some unsuspecting Templar or Dwarven fishmonger. She sighed with relief upon sighting Varric standing with Merrill just outside the Hanged Man.
"Fine morning for a Qunari hunt, eh Hawke?" Varric stroked the stubble on his beardless chin, "Um, think you've got enough supplies in there for four?"
"There's enough for the three of us, plus Titus. Varric, so help me, if you've invited Anders along on this one I will flay you alive!" Hawke bristled at the thought of losing her peaceful naps on the beach to the woefully smitten glances of their resident Abomination.
"No, I quite like my skin where it is, Hawke. Blondie isn't the one who invited himself along for this trip. Think broodier." Varric chuckled as Hawkes eyes widened in surprise and she began sputtering in anger and confusion.
"He what?" Hawke screamed, once she'd found her voice.
"He invited himself. We were playing a few hands of Wicked Grace last night when I let it slip what we were up to for the next few days. He was beating the pants off me, as usual and I had to find some way to bow out gracefully before I lost all my coin. I mentioned I had an early day with you today, and he asked me where we were going. When I mentioned searching for Qunari, he insisted he tag along. He does know more about them than all of us put together, Hawke."
She couldn't fault Varric's logic, Fenris did indeed know much about Qunari culture and customs. She had thought of inviting him but had decided she'd rather spend a few days out of his company. Despite his many talents and his extraordinary skill with a sword, she simply couldn't deal with her feelings for him anymore. She felt as if her heart was being broken piece by piece each time she looked upon his face, those stormy eyes, that shock white hair falling into his face when he spoke, those lips as they curved into a smirk at one of Merrill's silly comments. She so longed to dig her hands into that soft, white hair and kiss those infuriating lips until he couldn't breathe.
"...and I just hope the water isn't too cold for a swim. Do you think the water will be very cold? Hawke?" Merrill waved her hand in front of Hawke's face. "Thedas to Hawke. Hello, Hawke? Where did you go?"
Hawke snapped herself out of her elf-laced reverie and nodded to Merrill, "Sorry. Yes, the water should be plenty warm enough for a swim. We just have to find those blasted Qunari first." Hawke turned to Varric, "So, what time did you tell the broody elf to be here? We're losing daylight."
Varric's face split into a wide grin as a gravelly voice spoke behind her, "He told the 'broody elf' to be here by seven, and thus I am here. I do not brood."
She whirled around to confront him, "Oh, you are so wrong! You're the broodiest brooding elf I've ever met in my life! You're late. It's at least a quarter past seven!" Her eyes were shooting sparks and she felt as if smoke were wafting from her ears. Only he could get under her skin this easily.
"I've been standing behind you for the last fifteen minutes whilst you were wool gathering. If I were an assassin, you'd be dead several times over." He slouched against the wall of the Hanged Man.
Merrill shuffled her feet and discreetly lowered her gaze to avoid catching eyes with either of the arguing pair. Varric simply watched in rapt attention, still wearing his huge grin.
"I was not wool gathering, I was thinking of how to make my supplies stretch to accommodate four people instead of my original plan for three. Not easy, thanks to your inviting yourself along to this expedition!" She stamped her foot in frustration, her eyes watering from the pain of a sharp pebble she hadn't realized had lodged in her shoe.
"There is no need. I've brought my own supplies." He stated matter of fact, ignoring her outburst.
"Oh, of course you did! Fine! You want to come along, suit yourself." She swung around, nearly unseating the pack from her shoulder and knocking Merrill over. "Come on, Daisy, Varric. Let's not lose any more daylight."
Fenris straightened and fell in behind Hawke and the others as they left Lowtown for the Wounded Coast, wondering at Hawke's unusual behavior. Never before had he invited himself to any of her excursions but with his knowledge of the Qunari, he didn't understand why she seemed so upset with him.
She had grown moody and irritable, quick to temper of late. It seemed directed at him alone and it had been getting worse over the last year. It seemed obvious to Fenris, she was tired of having him around. Why doesn't she just tell me to leave?
She did nothing but confuse his thoughts and lay waste to his senses, he couldn't think clearly in or out of her presence. His days were filled with worthy battles and the sight of Hawke's superior posterior swaying back and forth as she walked ahead of him each day. It was hypnotizing, like a siren song luring him to his death or like a pendulum counting out the seconds to his ultimate doom.
His nights were plagued with fevered dreams of her body moving beneath his own. He had thought once that there might be a chance at something wonderful between them, all those years ago. He had been a fool and a coward. How could he have ever thought that she might share his growing passion? He was a former slave, he was a ruthless killer. He had nothing to offer her, not even a past to share.
He shook himself from his thoughts and tried to enjoy the countryside as they trudged through the outskirts of Kirkwall towards the Wounded Coast. His gaze always gravitated back to Hawke and that beautifully rounded behind swaying before him. How he enjoyed following her. He longed to stroke his hands over that smooth flesh and feel her tremble beneath him. He ached to taste her lips as she sighed his name. He yearned to bury himself in her velvet heat and stay there forever.
He stifled a groan as he realized the train of his thoughts and shifted his breeches to accommodate the sudden swelling of his manhood. It was a good thing he always brought up the rear in their little groupings, he thought to himself. The last thing he needed was Varric ribbing him or Merrill collapsing in a faint at the sight of him.
The dog chuffed plaintively at him as if sensing his thoughts. This caused everyone to turn and look at him. His difficulty no longer obvious, he simply shrugged.
"Are you hungry, baby?" Hawke sweetly lilted. "Let's stop for lunch, everyone."