He gritted his teeth, eyes blurry with tears as he walked faster. He could hear her footfalls stop at her door. She hadn't chance to get dressed. He heard her call after him, telling him to wait as she scurried around her room, no doubt trying to cover herself to follow him. He felt torn in two, sure his feet pulled his body forward, out of the house, but his heart was left in that bedroom with the brave woman who was so very different than his point of views. She was a mage, he should hate her, she was a danger to everyone around her, but not Hawke; she would never falter into the grasp of a demon. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to do the same with those thoughts and feelings he had for her.
He looked up and saw he was looking out over the water. He sat down at the edge of the waves and buried his face in his hands. Tears dripped past them and onto the beach. It was better this way. Hawke was now a rich and highly influential person, and what of him? He was a slave. He had done everything in his power to stifle that truth, but proof of it danced across his skin in the lyrium patterns. His grief of what he had just done, what he had given washed over him like the waves lapping over his toes. He recalled their night together, her body against his, her hands tracing the markings. He felt his groin twitch and he flung himself down onto the sand. These memories should not be replaying in his head, she did not belong to him, never did despite his thoughts and hopes for it to be otherwise.
The sunlight glared in his wet eyes. He remembered how she had reached out to stop him from leaving and the rage filled lust took over. How he spun and backed her up, pinning her against the wall, glowing a vivid blue. She looked frightened at first before she smiled up at him in an understanding way he was not used to. He backed up, telling himself over and over that it was not good for her, despite their flirting. She deserved better. That is the last thing his mind could process as every inch of him became aware that she was kissing him, her arms wrapped around his neck. He cursed her for making this so hard on him and went to pull back again, but she spun them and pinned him to the wall in her place. The change shocked him, but his body reacted, shifting so one leg was pushed between hers. She ground against it and let out a sigh. Damn it all he thought as his right hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her closer, cutting off her route of escape. This woman was going to drive him mad.
Hawke watched him go from her window, her robe hastily wrapped around herself. She could follow him, but even if she caught up she knew he didn't want her company. She bit back tears and went back into her room, slamming the door and making several of her servants questioned what was wrong. Gossip started up, each coming up with their own answer, none exactly right and getting further from the truth.
Hawke flopped down on her bed and curled up around a pillow. She took it too fast, had scared him away. She sighed and gripped the pillow tighter. She had fallen for Fenris the moment he toppled into her life. He was handsome and strong, and that voice… It made her legs go weak.
After everything she'd been through, everything she'd done for everyone else she had just wanted someone for her. A sob raked through her shoulders and she bit her lip to silence them as tears ran down her cheeks.
Half a moon cycle later Varric had invented them all down to his suite in the hanged man and Hawke had tried everything she could to get out of it. To no avail. When the dwarf heard that she refused the invite to drink he told Isabella, who told Aveline, who told Merrill, who told Anders and he headed over to Hawke's estate to heal her with whatever obvious illness she had fallen to.
"Anders, I'm not sick, I promise, I just didn't feel like going out." Hawke said and motioned to the door.
Anders ignored the gesture. "A checkup wouldn't hurt. After all you have been running yourself ragged lately."
Hawke sighed and ruffled her short hair. "Fine if it will get all of you off my back." she said and plopped down on her bed.
Anders perked up and started to look her over, asking for her remove her top to check her heart beat at one point. She slid the robe off her shoulders without a fight and let it fall around her waist, clad in only the cloth around her breasts. Anders tried not to stare as he put his palm over her upper left breast and used his magic to hone in on her breathing and heartbeat, making sure it was all regular. "You've been distracted lately." he commented and she shrugged. "You've cut down on missions, visit less frequently… it has us all worried." he tried to pry gently. "The clinic has gotten over run without you there to lighten the workload."
"You can manage just fine, I have faith, and I am no healer." she finally spoke. "I'm a force of destruction. I only learned healing after…"
Anders nodded, beating himself up inside for making her remember her sister's death. He knew the memory still haunted her. On missions that took them out into the wilds for several days, the nights he was in her presence while she slept, he had watched her toss and turn, jolt awake with electricity prickling on her skin, ready to fight the ogre four years dead, the one that killed her sister. "I know, I've been hit by that cone of cold of yours." he said in a way to lighten the mood and helped her replace her robe.
"I said I was sorry, you shouldn't be that close to me in a fight." she said and didn't protest when Anders pushed her down on the bed and started moving his glowing hands up and down the air above her body.
"You never hit Fenris and you two are never more than a dozen feet apart." he commented and she flinched.
"I know he is there… we just…" she shook her head and sat up. The motion put Ander's hands on her stomach and their faces close. He swallowed and started to move in for a kiss, but Hawke blasted him back with a strong, yet gentle, mind blast. He took the hint, said goodbye, and left, embarrassed that he had just done that. But why shouldn't he? He deserved it. He shook his head, trying to clear Justice's thoughts from mudding up his own.
Hawke went to the gathering, lest anyone else come charging into her house claiming to think she was ill. She sat next to Varric who was at the head of the table and Aveline on her other side. She couldn't express her gratitude that the two effectively stopped a certain elf or mage from sitting beside her. She didn't want to deal with Anders right now and if she was that close to Fenris she didn't think she could bare it right now. Said elf was sitting in the opposite corner and avoiding her gaze. Her chest her and her stomach turned so she looked away and downed another drink.
Fenris could feel her eyes on him and wished he hadn't come. Varric had told him in a fleeting remark that Hawke had denied the invitation. The joy he felt when she walked into the room was doubled with the pain of what he had done. He tapped his armored fingers against the wine bottle he was hording all to himself. Isabella pressed against his arm as she told some riveting tale about a time her ship made it out of a tough spot or something. Fenris wouldn't have been able to pay attention if he wanted to, he was so focused on not looking up, at Hawke. Best if she hated him, thought he was just some sleaze who left after he got what he wanted. It wasn't until Isabella repeated his name right against his ear that he realized she was talking to him.
"Fenris, what do you think?" she purred against the tender pointed flesh. He let out a shiver and wanted to push her away, but he caught a glimpse of Hawke's face, the pain and jealous towards their closeness. She still cared for him and it was breaking his heart to be putting her through this. But it was for the best. And if she thought he was on to the next woman so soon perhaps it would hasten her pining after him.
"I do not care." Fenris answered truthfully, but didn't push her away.
As the night when on and drink and stories started to run in short supply they all started stumbling back to their own residences, going in twos for safety. Varric took Merrill home, always the protective one when it came to her. Aveline went alone, for who would try to jump the head of the guard? Hawke helped support up Anders and they started to his clinic.
Fenris hated seeing them together. He ended it with Hawke for her to find someone better, not for that mage to lap her up. Anders was an abomination and a grey warden, if one didn't kill him the other surely would. And then Hawke would be alone again. He wanted to rip the selfish mage's heart out. The only thing keeping him from doing just that was the desire to get away from Isabella, who was currently clinging to him, her hand trying to find the opening to his trousers, but she was too drunk to really function.
She followed him home and got inside before he could shut the door. He yelled at her to get out, threatened her, but she wouldn't leave. Instead she darted into his unwilling embrace and kissed him, her tongue sliding into his mouth. He let out a muffled nose as she kissed him, too shocked to do anything. He remembered his night with Hawke and it set his groin stirring. He started to kiss Isabella back, picturing that it was Hawke, wishing that it was. If he closed his eyes and ignored the lip ring he was almost drunk enough to believe it.
He dragged her up to his room and threw her down on the bed. She went to say something, but he put a hand on her throat. "Don't speak." he growled, not wanting her to break the illusion. He kissed and nipped at her skin, grind against her through their clothes. He released himself from his pants and pulled of her panties, not bothering with the rest of the clothes before he thrusted inside of her. He ravished her, imagining Hawke. Thoughts of her being with Anders danced across his mind and made him furious, made him that much rougher. Isabella loved it, crying out. He wanted to cover her mouth, to silence her voice as it was not Hawke's. He remembered the little mews she had made under him, how she would breathlessly say his name when he kissed her neck. Maker, he missed it, he wanted it back. He had a taste of happiness and he feared he would never be able to go without it again.
A/N: I got inspiration to write this one day, will probably continue it into a full story line starting at this point. Well tell me what you guys think. R&R