AN:/ Hey People! So Here Im Doing a FANFICTION page :D This is my story I first started on my deviantart page
but I shall be continuing the story on here :D
Hope you like it, Please NO FLAMERS and Please don't forget to give me some tips on improvement :D
AKx
The mansion was intricate in its design, the red Amell crest highlighting the wealth of the family, and the value of the mansion. However the mansion was not just passed through the family like many of its sister buildings in Hightown, it was originally owned by the Amell family, who until recently were not currently in the mansion. It was given as a debt owed by Gamlen Amell. Lucky for Leandra Amell, Her eldest daughter had gone on such a risky mission to earn the money to reclaim her mother's family home, at a great cost. Bethany Hawke, Leandra's youngest daughter, had perished from the blight in the deep roads. For now though, at least, the sadness had past and the wounds had healed.
"I was thinking if I shouldn't re-marry?" Leandra asked her daughter. Hawke smiled at her mother with the light bouncing off her ruby coloured hair. "You deserve any happiness you can find," replied Hawke. "Thank you dear, I will always love your father, but it's nice to know I can still be courted at this age," Her mother replied with a smile. Hawke left her mother by the window, and walked into her lounge area. Her chair sat in front of the four tall bookcases separated by the tall marble fireplace, with the relic hung high above it. Hawke smiled and remembered.
"Is that an old god relic?" The tall, silver haired elf asked roughly. His brow furrowed as he frowned at the statue. "I don't know Fenris, why do you want to know?" Hawke replied carefully, knowing his delicate temper for things relating to the past. "It reminds me of the old god relics in Tevinter, I hate it, can't you remove it?" He retorted with his anger edging his voice like venom. Hawke smiled, and chuckled. "I'll get Bodahn on it, okay?" She laughed. His frown lifted partially, and his slouch straightened a little as his hand lifted to push some of his silver hair that moved into his line of sight.
Hawke blinked and chuckled at the memory. Hawke had grown rather fond of the elf. They had both shared a bed, and their bond had grown since they had first met. She had even started teaching him to read, which they both enjoyed fully. She would read him stories, and in turn get him to find his favourites and read them back to her. The teachings had pleased Hawke, as it gave Fenris a good excuse to continuously visit her mansion, as well as it gave her an excuse to have such a vast amount of books, not that she needed one, however it was nice to have one.
"Err, sorry to interrupt," Bodahn started as he stuck his head round the door. "It's Fine Bodahn, is everything okay?" Hawke replied pulling a book from one of the shelves. "It's just that your elven friend is here, and looking rather handsome as usual I must say," He replied complimenting Hawke as if Fenris was her best jewel in her crown. Hawke smiled, knowing that he was always polite. She left the book on the side and went into the living area. "I've seen how you and that elf look at each other, an elven slave? Maker's breath I hope you know what you are doing," Leandra chuckled. Hawke smiled at her mother before turning to Bodahn. "I'm just picking some books out, can you please show Fenris in, and tell him to go on upstairs, I'll be right up," She said gently. "Of Course," Bodahn replied. Hawke then turned and left the room, to retrieve some more books for her teachings.
"She said to go on upstairs, and she'll be right with you," Bodahn addressed Fenris gently. "Thank you," Fenris replied and paced through the living area, he reserved an addressing smile for Leandra, out of respect, nodded and smiled in greeting him. As Fenris moved, the soft light danced off his silver locks of hair that lay softly around his pointed ears and edged features. The silver Lyrium in his skin glittered and twinkled in the light, and his black and silver armour clanked with a slow gentle sound, that rhythm-ed his soft slow movements. He climbed the stairwell, noticing the intricate and yet rude carvings in the wood that only Isabella would dare write. He glanced at the comment and felt a slight bit of heat rush to his cheeks, which he fought back and continued to climb.
He reached Hawke's bedroom and once again familiarised himself with her belongings. He noticed the fireplace, the same pottery, wardrobe books and chests. He smiled at her constant contentment of having things the way they were kept from the moment they moved in. He looked at the neatly made bed, which no doubt Hawke had done herself as one of her small morning routines, which made Fenris smile. The memories of the night they shared were always held back by a dam in his mind that now flew open, flooding his thoughts with the memories.
He remembered her soft touch, and the way that her fingers traced his markings in the gentlest way possible. He remembered every ridge in her lips that he traced with his tongue and the smell of her freshly washed hair. He remembered it as if it were yesterday, but with those most passionate and cherished moments that he guarded so sincerely in his mind, came his darkest moments. The young elf had been through so many dark times in his life, but his darkest moments were self inflicted and the very memories that Fenris had since enveloped himself a self loathing and hatred for his own actions. He'd left her; he'd shared a bed with her, spent the night and left her like nothing more than a common whore he could have easily picked up from the Hanged Man. He hated himself for leaving her like that, it was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but never less he'd done it and had ferocious nightmares and regrets since.
Fenris quickly slammed his book of memories shut in his mind, before his self loathing consumed him and Hawke would have easily detected his odd and irrational behaviour. He decided therefore, to busy and comfort his thoughts by once again going over her belongings that he'd already memorised down to the nearest neglected cobweb in the top left ceiling. He comforted himself by tracing over her bottom shelf of books, where she kept his favourite books. He took one out from its position and dusted a thin layer from it, releasing the small amount of soot-like particles into the air in the form of a small cloud.
The Book Of Shartan. The very book that was Hawke's first gift to him and started his journey of reading. He coveted the book and that was the very reason it was kept here, so it would always be safe and kept in perfect condition, where papremites couldn't reach the pages or the fragile binding. His fingers ran over the book's faults and ridges and his body took small comfort from the familiarity. He smiled and sighed, replacing the book in its rightful place, even though now it stood out in the cluster of books as the only clean one there. He stood up, composing himself for Hawke's return, however something out of the corner of his eye, caught his attention.
How he had not noticed it before, it bothered him. He tried to ignore the alien item in the room but no matter how hard he tried, it stuck out to him like a needle digging in his thigh. "I'll be a few more minutes Fenris!" Hawke called from the lounge. He was dumbfounded at what he was staring at. Fenris remained silent, staring at the top shelf of books. A new book had been added, he knew for the lack of dust and the state of the book. It was new, if almost plucked from the markets and placed here not ten minutes ago. The black binding called to him, the gold stitching sang like a siren calling him. This was not what bothered him. The spine had no title. Fenris found his hands seize the book like he was swimming in an ocean and the small alien book had been his only raft.
He brushed his hands over the front of the book. Again, no title. This bothered Fenris, as much as he resisted opening the book, as much as he tried to keep his composure, his curiosity bared the elf no mercy. He opened the book. A small handwritten bunch of text that stated, 'Contentment In The Barracks'. Fenris raised an eye; the title was an odd one. He flicked through the pages. The text wrapped around his mind as his eyes traced them. 'Slowly pulled the fabric wrappings from my flesh and traced my neck with kisses, as he did so. I felt a surge of energy buzz through me as I pulled closer to him'. Fenris' eyes widened and he felt the hot flush rise back up to his cheeks. He turned the pages.
His eyes traced another script. 'His pointy ears were addictive to me and I had to have him, his husky voice called to me and yet again all I wanted to do was undress him and have him take me'. Fenris felt his whole face go red and he quickly retreated from the book, slamming it shut. Was that about him? He felt a sense of euphoria and embarrassment that mixed. He squashed the book back in its rightful place on the shelf and yet again his thoughts slammed his mind as if each one had a hammer hitting on his temple. He couldn't believe what he'd read. Had Hawke wrote that? And then Fenris jumped as realisation hit him. It had to be Hawke's diary, Fenris thought. In which case, that was about him. He blushed even more, he never knew that the night they shared were as magical for her as it was for him, even after how it ended.
She still thought about me, when we travelled she wanted me to take her, Fenris thought. His body fizzed as if he were on fire. He felt like jumping and crying so many happy tears, however the sentences he'd read, still flashed through his mind. He went rigid and he blushed a deep scarlet. How could he talk to Hawke after he'd read her diary? She would know, she was a quick thinker like himself and would sense it straight it away. She'd be furious, not to mention how could I talk to her after I've read something like that?! Fenris thought again, his cheeks were the deepest scarlet, and they burned. He then noticed he was no longer alone. She stopped behind him, her hand placing on his shoulder. The thoughts still cascading his mind.
"Hello Fenris,"
