Puppy-eyes

Summary: He was, after all, very good at ripping people's hearts out. Her only question was when he had taken hers.

Warning: Spoilers abound.

Disclaimer: Bioware owns DA2. Otherwise there would have been a Shale cameo in DA2.

Bethany had once told her brother is was a good thing that their elder sister had not been born a mage. The comment had come after a less than civil interaction between Hawke and a group of local boys, which had ended in more than one broken nose. Hawke insisted otherwise, stating matter-of-factly that she had been perfectly calm when she threw the first punch. This was, of course, a complete lie and Bethany was quite correct. If Hawke had been born a mage it would have been bad as she was not sure she could resist blasting each fool she met with a fireball. Luckily for the rest of the world, Hawke was limited to her limbs and most people stood out of her reach (a fact that might be directly responsible for Hawke developing a rather irrational love for bows and grenades, but that is another story).

It was also lucky for the elf who now stood before her, just frustratingly out of strangling reach, calmly explaining why it had been oh-so necessary to put her and her own into a trap. It was not even really based on anyone being in any real danger (the thugs had been more of a minor annoyance if anything), but rather that Hawke hated being played. It also didn't help that she felt shown up when the elf had descended the stairs and pulled that impressive trick of sticking his arm through a man's chest (something she was disappointed to later learn he could not teach her). Her anger only grew when he sneered at Bethany later, after they'd helped him for free (her one real lament about the situation).

Though she could not pinpoint one really good reason, Hawke decided that she did not like the elf and she did little to hide her distaste. It would become something she'd later regret, but at the time she found nothing brightened her day more than watching his (pretty) face scowl as she made off-hand comments on how breath-taking flying lightning- and fire-balls was and how it was oh-so horrible that the mages suffered such pains on a daily bases (and since she actually believed in most of what she said, it was a win-win in her book).

She was therefore thrown for a loop when he not only stuck around, but actually offered his serves. Hawke was used to her sharp tongue making her enemies, but she was not used to her those enemies not trying to kill her. This did not stop the pair's alliance from quickly becoming the most frustrating and confusing for Hawke out of all those she made that year. They had agreed to work together, but this did not stop them from arguing more often than not (their one civil conversation had been when both were slightly intoxicated and at one point had come too close to flirting for Hawke to acknowledge any memory of the evening). Still, as the year passed, outright hostility lessened and respect grew, though the underlying tension nevertheless remained.

It was in the Deep Roads that Hawke finally came to the conclusion that she no longer hated the elf (political opinions were not high in priority when knee-deep in darkspawn corpses and covered in blood). It was not altogether the best time for a heart-to-heat when she had her epiphany, yet on that day that Hawke found herself knocked off a ledge and grasping a lyrium marked hand slicked with blood, was when she told him (what she actually said was that he had very pretty eyes, a comment he would tease her mercilessly about in much later years). He did not acknowledge the complement at the time (Hawke was not exactly light and Fenris himself had sustained several injures), but after he hauled her up and they both sat panting as Anders clucked and fussed over them, she realized she was wearing a silly grin and he a small smile.

But while Hawke would like to think they'd perhaps turned over a new leaf, any growing good will between them was halted when Hawke returned home just in time to see her sister taken to the Circle. She knew Fenris was not to blame, but when he made an ill-timed remark about how it might be better for everyone, she lashed out with all of her anger. Fenris took her blame with his usual attitude, refusing to take the offending comment back, only serving to further Hawke's rage (when she silently apologized months later, by delivery of a crate of that horrible tasting Tevinter wine that he seemed to enjoy drinking for whatever reason, and he simply understood, Hawke knew he was a better man than she openly gave him credit for).

Despite everything, their relationship had started to shift, a fact that was also becoming obvious to their companions. The arguing did not precisely lessen, but it became clear that Hawke was no longer only bring the former slave along for his sword skills (or to simply annoy him), but also for his contrasting opinions (Varric said she brought him to keep herself honest, though Isabela claimed it was for how fine he looked when he moved in his armor. Hawke never confirmed or denied either's theory). For three years the pair worked and fought together and reached some sort of silent agreement on their relationship, though neither part was quite sure what that agreement was. It was likely that they would have stayed in their odd limbo if not for the attack by slavers.

The whole affair brought out the rage that Fenris must have been suppressing for years. Hawke herself was maddened by the encounter and readily agreed to hunt down the woman responsible. Still, even though shooting slavers through the eyes would normally have soothed her anger, it was Fenris whom she yelled at when he broke his word by killing the mage (not because the woman didn't deserve it – Hawke was planning to slit the woman's throat herself once Fenris was out of sight – but because Fenris had sullied his honor over such a despicable and pathetic creature). When Fenris took off, Hawke's fury remained and the bandits along the Wounded Coast felt the full force of her wrath (the City Guards had easy patrols for days and Aveline even sent her a thank you gift).

It was very late when she finally returned home, exhausted and dirty, only to find Fenris sitting in her entry way. The conversation did not go how she normally would have planned it, her wariness causing her worry and concern to become apparent even behind her sarcasm. And then she really slipped up, throwing diplomacy to the wind and snapping at Fenris that if he kept up this hunt for revenge that it would not end well. She was ready for him to attack her back (willing even, as it would give her the chance to fully justify venting all of her frustrations that always seemed to surface lately when he was around), but she was not expecting the apology. It left her flat-footed and when he walked out she could only stand there, feeling as though she'd missed her moment (though she was not sure what that moment was). Her wariness forgotten, she turned herself around and headed straight for Lowtown.

She stumbled into Anders clinic at some point in the yearly morning, to the great distress of the mage (so much so that he actually paid Fenris a visit, something Hawke did not learn for years and even then both men refused to discuss it). When she woke a few hours later, healed and her armor somehow clean (Hawke never again cared what others said, Anders was Maker-sent in her book at times, even with his crazy), she was ready to pretend the whole event never happened. Determined to go about everything as normally as possible she once again caused Anders grief by immediately insisting on sending a runner for Isabela and Fenris and headed to deal with a problem with a young mage she'd helped years ago. It turned out to be the worst choice possible for a reconciliation job. Both Isabela and Fenris betrayed her in the Fade and Hawke came out wanting to kill them both.

She split from the group almost as soon as they left the Alienage, and once again found herself at Anders' clinic at late hours and in poor shape (she'd remember the lecture he gave her for years to come. The man really had a knack for twisting the guilt knife). She went to Isabela first, as soon as she was able to walk, and was surprised to find the woman upset (upset as Isabela ever could get anyway) and she found forgiveness came easy. Her visit to Fenris' mansion later, however, was a different story.

She was not sure what she expected, but Hawke never predicted that Fenris would blame her for the entire fiasco. It started her third argument with him in less than two days and the one that somehow ended up being the most tense, even though fewer words were spoken and neither actually raised their voices. For a full minute the pair stood nose-to-nose, tension thick enough to smoother, in the air. Hawke wasn't sure when the pressure shifted from hostile to something else, but she became suddenly aware she what she was waiting for was not violence. He must have noticed the change as well, but instead of taking a step forward like she did, Fenris stepped backward. It was the final straw, and Hawke let out a growl that made Fenris' eyes flash, but she'd already spun on her heel and was out of the room. She tore out of the mansion at record speed and in her own home only minutes later (if there were any thugs out in Hightown that night, they wisely stayed out of her way, even if she was armed only with a dagger).

She barely had a moment to be grateful everyone else in the house had already turned in for the night, as she began a destructive search for her bow and firebombs (Anders had wisely told Bodain earlier to hide them when Hawke was still at the Hanged Man, correctly guessing how her visit to Fenris would go and not wanting to host an injured Hawke for the third night in a row). Her rampage was halted by Fenris himself, when he strode through the door she'd forgotten to close in her haste.

She faced him, ready for his rage and not flinching when he didn't stop until inches away, eyes flashing. She was then caught off-guard when he did not snap, snarl or yell at her, only inform her with barely contained frustration that she was invading his mind, that he could think of nothing else. Then, (showing great restraint given the way he was looking at her) he said that if she told him to go, he would. She did not.

The searing kiss that followed made her grateful for a second time that no one else was still up, though she would not have truly cared by that point. When it became clear that neither of them wanted to stop at a single kiss, Hawke lead them stumbling and fumbling to her room. It was not a tender encounter, both filled with long held frustration and passion, and each unwilling to let the other be fully in control, but they were far to gone to really care (gentle came later, as Hawke laughed softly into Fenris neck as he bandaged the new shallow cuts on her thigh and she tied a red scarf around his wrist, joking badly of ladies, knights and favors). She slept better that night than in weeks, curled in his warmth.

Hawke should not have been surprised that the moment was merely fleeting, but she'd let her guard down, let him in and so when he left only hours later, stating that it had to end, she was blindsided. It hurt more than she would have predicted, watching him walk out, still wearing her red scarf. A better person would have been more understanding (it was not as if he'd just used her), but hurt brought anger and Hawke had long age developed a habit of revenge over acceptance, despite what she always told Fenris. She could admit she did not handle the rejection well, though at least she was moderately subtle about her displeasure. She did not openly yell or glare, and she refused to avoid him (she did side-step anything that would make her need to be alone with him, however). Fenris simply found himself suddenly accompanying Hawke on missions to save mages every chance she had, and she always appeared on his doorstep with Merrill and Anders in toe (Hawke had perfected annoying Fenris years ago and was putting her knowledge to full use). He bore it well (adding to her irritation), and leaving her with no justification to rip his arms off and stuff them down his throat.

It may have been easier to let go if not for her (now his) red scarf. The whole situation was made worse by the fact he would not stop wearing that stupid piece of fabric. She felt a small, despicable stab of hope every time she saw it on his wrist and yet she could never work up the courage to tell him to take it off (in no time she'd come to rely on the small hope as much as she hated it). They did not speak of what happened either, not to each other and certainly not to the rest of their companions. They all knew anyway (even her mother somehow had gotten the memo). Hawke personally refused to comment on the situation, not quite willing to trust what she would say.

And three months down the line, Hawke could pretend it never happened (almost). It was then the Maker decided to make a romantic out of her, whether she wanted it or not. She got up one morning, fully ready to move on (Anders probably would have been her chosen victim, considering crazy did not make him any less ruggedly handsome) only to walk in on a conversation between Merrill and Fenris (she'd forgotten she'd asked them to meet her). Hidden in the shadows she listened to Merrill giggle about how Fenris looked at Hawke every time the rouge was not paying attention, to Fenris deny it with conviction, to refute Merrill's accusations of love. And when Hawke turned the corner and saw the brief panicked look on Fenris' face (he clearly did not want to have had Hawke hear a word), Hawke knew that she was doomed. She really was just as bad as those girls she used to scoff at in those books Bethany liked. She would wait, she would hope, and she was utterly resigned to private pining.

In a perfect world (or in Bethany's books) her epiphany would have come with a confession ending in Fenris sweeping her off her feet (Varric had gotten to her after all). But as in all things, reality was far crueler, and the next time she was alone with him it was to have her apology book-present practically thrown back at her (she never told him, but that hurt just as much as the original walkout, even if he later did ask her to teach him to read). After that it was when her mother had just been killed and she barely even was able to acknowledge his presence, though it was likely the only thing that got her through the night. And then came the Qunari and her near death experience (it still hurt years later to remember being lifted off the ground by an impaled blade). She was out for four days and didn't even know he was there (Aveline was the one who told her, almost as an after thought at the end of a visit during her bed ridden phase). And strangely, it was that little piece of information that made her think her hope was not completely unfounded.

Still, that hope was all she got for the next few years. Three years passed in what was considered peace and quite for Hawke, even with the growing stress between the Templars and Mages. Not everything was normal, however. She watched Anders slowly start to truly lose himself (a process she fought with frequent trips to his clinic to drag him to the Hanged Man or other day trips), Merrill closed herself off (eventually even Hawke need to pick the elf's lock to make her weekly visits) and Hawke could no longer look at boats without wondering why Isabela wasn't next to her trying to make her blush (something the pirate had managed to perfect years prior). The time had its brighter moments and changes as well. Varric won the Hanged Man in a card game (he gave it back in exchange for a permanently unpaid tab, something Hawke was fully behind) and Aveline got married (an event that almost led to Hawke reveling her lingering feeling for Fenris, when she kissed him in a drunken haze. She was saved only be the fact she also somehow ended up kissing Merrill and Varric, a detail she threatened the dwarf at knife point to never tell).

Fenris was the one who somehow managed to span the years without any real changes, though he did let Hawke attempt to clean his house during a particularly slow month (let might not have been quite the right word as he argued with her the entire time and the whole affair ended with the pair drink a bottle of discovered brandy and taking turns attempting to catch the nug that had inexplicitly made it into the cellar). Nothing had changed between them, however. Most days, their relationship was a mimicry of their early years, abet with less desire for strangling (the desires were clearly else where and firmly ignored by both parties). And some days, there would be a glance, a look, a momentary meeting of the eye that made Hawke remember the night years past was not just a dream. The day she caught him smiling that smile at her (one that made Hawke melt and still do ridiculous things years later just to see it), as she rough housed with her mabari in the garden, she almost throw all caution and restraint to the wind (Aveline's timely appearance saved the elf and the captain never did find out why Hawke was so waspish to her that week).

Then came the appearance of Danarius and a confrontation that made Hawke wish Anders could bring back the dead so she'd have the chance to kill Magister herself. She did manage to stop Fenris from killing his sister, however, and when he looked so broken and lost after his sister's parting words she almost regretted it. And when he turned to her, she could not bring forth her usual sarcasm and, forgetting that there were others present, she told him with great conviction and even greater emotion that she was still there (the look that Fenris gave her then, right before leaving, made even Anders, the biggest disapprover of their relationship admit years later to Hawke he saw why she fell). It was two days later she found herself at his door (prodded in part to go by Isabela who had started jokingly claiming she'd have a go at the elf if no one took him soon and mostly by genuine concern).

She was greeted with a Tevinter swear that made her rethink the entire venture, and where the talk was likely to go. But then Fenris gave her that lost look again and she couldn't leave. And then she took a gamble, told him once again that she was still there. When he spoke of the night so long ago, asked for her forgiveness and told her he should have told her he couldn't even think about living without her, she forgot everything she'd ever practiced or thought about saying to him regarding that evening. Her response was not exactly straight forward, but Fenris had watched her more than she ever realized and had learned when she meant yes. The kiss that followed was anything but hesitant and the three years of doubt were forgotten.

She didn't make it home that night, and when she awoke the next morning and he was still there, she didn't reach her house the next night either (she did return home on the third night, after a rather embarrassing visit by Aveline who'd come to rouse bodies in a manhunt for Hawke after receiving frantic messages from Bodain). Aveline promised discretion, but all their companions knew by the end of the week (Hawke blamed Isabela, who Hawke doubted was fooled during the pirate's unexpected early morning visit with Hawke's excuses about early morning pigeon hunting). Hawke was too happy to mind their teasing, however, and Fenris did not seem to care (Merrill said at one point that he actually liked people knowing Hawke was his, a fact Hawke could only silently agree with after listening to him growl at one of Isabela's friend's offer to bed her).

The next two months were blissfully happy, which should have been the warning sign of the impending disaster (Hawke could never completely remember the time without wondering if she'd been less wrapped up in her own personal happiness if she could have prevented the destruction that followed).

The day that Anders blew up the Chantry was the first time in years she could not fix a problem with only a sharp blade and tongue. She was caught open mouth and stunned as the Knight-Commander and Senior Enchanter both demanded her allegiance, before she even had a chance to full process what had just happened. And standing there, listening to her companions, her friends press their opinions, Hawke feared she was about to break her own heart. Because even though Aveline and, more importantly, Fenris were pushing for the Templars, Hawke knew she'd never be able to turn against Bethany. She never had a choice in the end. And when she pledged her support to the mages and Fenris still chose to stand beside her, she nearly broke under the relief (she never had the guts to tell him how afraid she'd been in those minutes, that their differences in opinion would once again raise its head for a final confrontation).

Most of what Hawke remembered of the events after that moment was only bits and pieces. She could always recall sparing Anders (a dead healer helped no one and it would be worse for Anders to live with what he'd done than die a martyr). She could not remember most of their desperate fight through the city (she never knew whether Varric was exaggerating when he told others of her taking down a Pride demon with her last arrow through its eye, or of her leaping an entire flight of stairs to cut a Templar's throat before he could touch Merrill), nor could she claim to revive any memory of her conversation with Meredith other than a spike of respect and gratefulness when the Knight-Commander let them have time to prepare. She did, however, always vividly recall the quiet before the storm when she thought she might be saying goodbye to everyone she ever cared about still living.

She saved Fenris for last, mostly because she still held a tiny fear he would hate her for siding with the mages. When he told her that she had to promise to live, that he could not live without her, she knew no matter what she would not let him die (for she now suspected she might not be quite capable of living without him). And when he kissed her with such ferocity and passion, she was left breathless and could not prevent the soft swear that followed his momentary pulling back, nor the three little words that came right after (the kiss that Fenris gave her then left her head ringing and she was sure she could hear Isabela wolf-whistling across the room). She was still wearing a silly grin when she told Orsino she was ready. She did not have any doubts anymore - she knew she'd get through this fight if only to make sure Fenris kiss her like that again (which he did, many, many more times).

Years later, Fenris would ask her why she waited, why she didn't move on, hate him as he had intended. She told him he had Merrill to thank. When he only gave her a confused scowl, she laughed and only said one more thing.

"It was the puppy-eyes."

A/N:

And Merrill recieved a case of Tevinter wine, anonymously , of course. :p

I know I should be updating my chapter fics. But then there was DA2, and even though I went in thinking Anders would own the relationship field (I'd pegged Fenris as broody emo-man waaaay before release and thought he'd be annoying more than anything), when I went Fenris' route, he totally ninjaed my heart. I did not see it coming, especially since he was so scowlly at first on the rivarly path (but oh, his smile!). And I wanted to experiment with writing without dialog (though I didn't quite make it), so this was born. Reviews are loved, thoughts appreciated. I always want to know what I'm doing right, or, more importantly, wrong.

And...why isn't Fenris listed in the character drop down? Or did I just miss him? :/

RL