Fixed several inconsistencies and things that triggered palm to smack my face. As per usual, thoughts are greatly gratifying. :)
Fenris was the name Danarius bestowed upon me.
Marian twirled her fork among the array of seasonal fruits she was to be enjoying, just as she turned the memory in her head. When Fenris had told her that, she had not processed the thought properly, she realized in her present state of reflection.
You used to call me...
Leto. That was your name.
Dark blue juice oozed as her fork tines stabbed a single blueberry. Leto. An entire fragment of an identity, shattered by the will of one magister. She was sure that the thought had incessantly disturbed Fenris, but she did not expect that it would her. A man she'd not met inhabiting the same vessel in which her broody elf resided. She briefly considered if that would have been how she felt if the situation would have been similar with Anders.
"You've been distraught," Hawke dropped her fork at the worry-laced words being addressed to her. She set her plate aside, and turned to face him. For a reason or another, she felt as if Fenris might have heard all of her thoughts, and it made her avoid his eyes. A second glance into his emerald pools told her that he was not aware of her peculiar fascination with her current train of thought, and her theory was confirmed by the confusion that grew on his face like a ripple. Warmth flooded her cheeks with embarrassment for thinking so deeply of him when the man himself was within such close proximity of her. He reached for her hand and cupped it to his cheek, a gesture which slightly startled her with its intimacy. Against his will, Fenris had dug out a long buried fear during her phase of brief meditation. Their reconciliation was fresh still, and what if Hawke realized that she no longer harbored feelings for him, that it was her turn to cast him aside? She had been passionate the first night, and though she had hesitated the second time, she had held him tentatively, preciously, like a child does when they've caught a butterfly within the hollow of their palms, gently, as to not mar their delicacy and beauty. But Fenris knew her, knew himself better. She was gentle to more than just him, and he was quick to classify her actions as ones of affection because even if she no longer cared for him, he certainly did for her. The bite of doubt was necessary. It was an epidemic, poisonous, and mocking, but necessary. It was the rock shackled to his leg and confined him to the ground, the one that prevented him from hoping, prevented him from suffering disillusionment. Hawke had called him a cynic once. He preferred realistic.
"It's just that I've been thinking..." His heart begun sinking at the words, his hand clutching hers in an attempt to remember the final touches as he saw his happiness begin to crumble before him. The fact that thoughts encompassed such a broad spectrum deeply unnerved him. Had she been thinking that it was not what she thought it was? That this thing between them was not meant to flower further from the budding stage at which it had been crystallized?
"About?" He asked and he dreaded it. Hawke laced her fingers gently into his tensed ones, realizing where his thoughts might have been heading. She leaned in and planted a soft kiss in his lips, melting the spreading frostbite of his doubts.
"Your sister," She breathed.
"My... sister?" Now there was an unexpected answer. His familial affairs were hardly the food of philosophy. It could not have been what set her thoughts off on a tandem. Was she afraid that his willingness to kill his own kin would be her undoing? Hawke had always been close to her family, a truth he unfortunately did not share. Fear strikes harder when the stakes have been lost, after all, and she had lost all she could ever risk, -or so he thought- and considering his history of failures and less than noble acts, well, fear on her part he would not hold against her. Yes, her fear was legitimate, it would serve as a precaution for the future, he allowed the stark thought.
"It's just that she had called you-"
"Leto," he responded and crossed his arms, his face betraying his growing confusion. A name, a word; to what end? "That was my name. And?"
"Y-yes," there was a flutter in the skin of her throat as she swallowed her anxiety, "I was wondering If I should call you that?" Ah. Not a name, nor a word; an identity. His eyes rose meet hers then, indiscernible in expression. She had a strong feeling of vulnerability nearly overwhelm her, and her instincts told her to duck, or cover her face, or at the very least turn her eyes from his, but she did not, and she stubbornly stared back at him.
"Why?" The short retort had Hawke fumbling for words. She wasn't sure why. Why wouldn't she? That was his given name, not the name 'bestowed upon him' by Danarius as Fenris had so eloquently put it during one of their personal conversations.
"I-I just thought maybe you'd want to recover your old self now that the…err… obstacles are gone" Fenris gazed at her a moment longer. It seemed to her that he was taking her words into consideration, his mind seeming to turn screws and wheels as it was his habitual modus operandi.
"Did you know Leto?" He asked her and Hawke's tongue struggled once more to form a coherent response. If she were to respond the literal question, then the answer would be obvious, but she knew better than that. Fenris was not an obvious man, often treading in the waters of ambiguity as he did. So she took a moment to think on her response, feeling slightly pressured under his emerald eyes. Leto was Fenris, and Fenris was Leto. The name did not change who he was, did it? And while it was true that he had lost the memories during the times in which his given name was still used, she wasn't sure how much of Leto was part of his current self. Maybe some habits remained, and he had for the most part the same personality. But maybe, just maybe his character was morphed by his experiences with Danarius and traces of his old self were lost in the process. There was no was no way she could really know, and it was with that conclusion in which she found her answer.
"I don't know," she responded truthfully, unaware of the pensive frown which had burgeoned upon her face.
"Then perhaps I should clarify," In a moment which encompassed what seemed less than a second, she found Fenris settled between her thighs, his hands finding hers until they locked on her wrists. He nudged her to lay on the bed, not breaking eye contact during her gentle descent. An undulation of his hips against the fabric of her smalls was enough to inform her on the present condition of his member, and she almost felt the dilation of her pupils as she stared up at him. He repeated his movements, sensually stimulating her body in ways she knew only he could. She felt her eyelids become heavy until her vision was darkened, and she focused on the tactile pleasures igniting in her body, even as her tongue moistened her rosy lips at the sudden lack of humidity in them. Her body temperature seemed to rise, as ripples of pleasure provoked her arousal. Male muskiness permeated her nostrils as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. Fenris adjusted her face until his lips were planted upon hers, pleasing warmth turning to scorching heat as she opened her mouth to allow his tongue massage hers.
She felt the grip on her wrists loosen, and she took the opportunity to lace her fingers through his white tresses. The hands which had held her trailed about her hips until they found an entrance under her shirt, his fingers then rubbing dexterously against her sensitive breasts. The warmth and callousness of his hands excited her more as his fingers kneaded her nipples firm. Each breath she took came quicker than the last one, becoming shallow in its haste. Teeth grazed her bottom lip, his lips leaving a trail down her chin, her throat, until he found the juncture of her neck, where he suckled on the skin until it was raw. He stopped grinding against her core once he was done he with her breasts, but allowed his hands to wander down her thighs before she could protest, where he pinched at her tender skin. He shoved her undergarment to one side as Hawke released a pleasured gasp, opening her eyes to meet his once more. It seemed to her that Fenris had not tore his vision from her face for even a moment, and that made her feel slightly vulnerable. She wasn't sure how her face looked as he rendered her incoherent, but she guessed it could not have been too terrible if his blown out pupils was any indication. Another gasp escaped her lips as his fingers found her hidden pearl, and so she brought the back of her palm to her mouth and bit down her moans while Fenris circled it until her folds slickened with her juices. He gathered some of her wetness and continued stroking until she was bucking her hips against him.
"Tell me, my pretty bird, which name is it that you moan?" His words were husky from his own arousal, and Hawke hissed as his warm breath fanned over her ears.
"Fenris," the name rolled over her tongue.
"Then it seems we've reached a conclusion," he said as his fingers hooked on the sides of her smalls and slid them down her legs until they reached her became rather unsure then. It didn't seem right that she should proceed to call him Fenris, even though she did prefer that name. It was a mark that Danarius had left permanently upon him, one that he would be forever reminded of not only by his friends, but by intimate moments such as these. Even with Danarius gone, she knew that his stain would not wash away. Perhaps she was more worried than she should have been, for he had indeed promised to remain by her side, and if Danarius had gotten anything right about the canine reference in the name of her lover it would be his unyielding loyalty. Still, she dreaded the thought of him being unable to accept himself after all of the magister's abuse, and of it getting in the way of their relationship once more. She recalled Fenris and how angry and resented he had been as he confessed to her of Danarius's sexual uses of his body after she had jested about his unnatural evasion of physical touch. The joke turned out to be rather sordid, she knew he thought that she was ridiculing him and fearing having lost not only a good friend but her romantic interest, she had endeavored to apologize vehemently, despite his refusal to see her for weeks after the fact.
"Wait!" she said as he moved to turn her on all fours. He halted his movements, staring expectantly into her eyes with no small amount of frustration.
"I just want to make sure this is what you wish. I know that Danarius's... abuses were beyond what is visible" She worded carefully as she gently traced the lifted skin emblazoned with lyrium with the pads of her fingers, she knew she was swimming in treacherous waters. Even with her choice of words, she saw his face sour instantly, and for a moment she wished she'd cut out her tongue.
"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned that. It wasn't my place-" His hand held her cheek then, if a little roughly, and she found herself staring into his mossy pools, lost in the intensity of his gaze. She heard him sigh.
"I am not upset at you, Marian. The memories simply seem to... continue influencing my mood."
"I still shouldn't-" He pressed his lips gently against hers to silence her.
"While it is true that 'Fenris' was Danarius's doing, how would I react if the woman I am bedding suddenly… moans the name of a man I know nothing of?" He quirked his eyebrow at her, and she chuckled, heat rushing to her cheeks.
"When you put it that way... it wasn't one of my better ideas."
"A name and life which I am familiar is preferable to that, particularly when the woman in question is you, Hawke," his words seemed to dawn light upon her, as she slowly processed them. Still, she remembered Fenris recovering the distant memory of him and his sister during their not-so-stellar reunion. Not to mention the primary reason Fenris had left her years ago was because of the memories they had awakened that night.
"Your memories could return. What then?" He seemed to once more be contemplative.
"You met me as 'Fenris'. And you accepted me, and harbored feelings for me as such. Would that have occurred were I this 'Leto' neither you nor I know anything of?" Once again, Fenris had an excellent point. She wasn't sure she would have fallen for him if he was any sort of different. She loved his dry humor, and strangely enough, his tragic past. It was because of his past that she was initially intrigued by him, and why she endeavored to build up trust with him, for their connection was not an immediate one. It was something she had nurtured, and it was that fact which made him more precious to her. She had to learn to reconcile their opinions, and accept the way he challenged her views. He would not have done so if his life would have been all sunshine. Just when she thought she could not be more smitten by him, the events with Danarius had transpired, and she learned of his noble intentions of self-sacrifice in order to ease the conditions of those he loved, knew of the extent he was would put himself through for the sake of others. And although Leto was the one who was willing to take the sacrifice to free his mother and sister, it was Fenris who paid the consequences of Leto's decision.
"You're right, you're right. I just don't want you getting an identity crisis, is all," Her heart fluttered when he smiled at her.
"The name 'Leto' has an interesting meaning in Tevene," he realized out loud.
"Oh? Aren't you a bundle of surprises? What meaning is that?" Hawke slid her arms around his neck, her mouth beginning to trace his jaw line as he allowed his eyelids to shut
" It means… 'forgotten'" Hawke snorted rather loudly at the strange coincidence, "Laugh if you please, but I think that it is appropriate. Leto was meant to be forgotten. 'Fenris' wasn't my choice, and it is not who I was, but it is who I am now," he decided, not for her, but for both of them.
"You know, now that I think about it, I remember my father telling me of a story about a boy named 'Leto'. He was always happy, always resilient even when he faced awful situations. I think my father said that it meant 'sunshine'. It's funny that I had forgotten that. Kind of ironic, really," She saw what appeared to be melancholy color his features.
"I will forgive it as long as you do not forget me," He held her hand up to his cheek again, and she caressed it gently. Heart aching, she stored this memory in a secure place of her mind. She ached for him, he who had given everything he could for his family, to be betrayed so easily, to have forgotten all of his strife, she wanted to remember him, and treasure him like he deserved.
"Oh, I think you've done enough forgetting for the both of us," she quipped, accepting his loving kiss, veiled with affection even with his amused smirk. It rendered her breathless, she realized when they parted, and she nuzzled his cheek while she regained her breath.
"Either way, I do need sunshine to light my way, not only when the day is dark, but every single day. Besides, don't they say sunshine makes people happy? I can certainly attest to that," She hoped her puns weren't too cheesy, and thought that maybe Varric would be proud of her. She yelped when Fenris suddenly flipped her over and proceeded to make her moan his name until she was sore. Vaguely, she thought that though the sun is forgotten with its presence, it is remembered in its absence, marking a place in every moment of her life. And though part of her sun had been snuffed for years, she would stoke it because Fenris was that sun, because without her sun, there is no life.