A/N This is a collaborate work of fiction written by the always fabulous JenniferHawke and yours truly. It is written in two different perspectives: Fenris and Marian Hawke. I will be writing the Fenris chapters and Jen will be writing the Marian chapters. Please keep that in mind if you decide to leave feedback. We decided to post it to my account since duplicates aren't allowed and I have more followers than her.

Please take a moment to follow/favorite/review JenniferHawke's stories. They're very fun and they include excellent smut scenes.

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-Shinkshinkshink

Fenris

The Tevinters say that when you save someone, your lives become permanently intertwined. You are responsible for them, and they are indebted to you. This is one such story.

Fenris leaned his head against the wall and tried to drown out the sounds of drunken revelry with his thoughts. Although Lothering was not heavily populated or trafficked by tourists, the villagers were boisterous and loud and the patrons of Dane's Refuge were no exception to this rule. His head throbbed, but he could not afford a room. He could tell the barkeep Danal was staring at him again. He could feel his eyes upon him. It would only be an hour or so more at most before he would be "forced" to ask Fenris to leave, surrendering the vagrant elf to the humidity of the Fereldan summer air.

It was insufferably hot. Perhaps today would be the day that Fenris finally buckled and spent the night in the Chantry. It wasn't that he had anything against Andrasteans or even the Chantry itself. He just didn't care for all the proselytizing and preaching, all for one night's sleep and a hot meal. He could scarcely reconcile their worth with the trouble he would have to go through to get them, which is exactly why he typically camped out in the fields, when it was too dark for anyone to see him.

The chair on the opposite side of the table screeched across the wooden floor and when he opened his eyes to the awful sound, he was met with an intent gaze. One of the local girls. He'd noticed her staring a time or two before over the past week, but then, they all stared. He had that effect on people. He didn't give her much thought.

But now she was sitting before him with her raven, unkempt tress and her unapologetically blue eyes, and he had no choice but to acknowledge her existence. Pretty as she was, she was also an unwelcome intrusion. He scowled and said nothing, hoping she would find something better to do with her time than gawk at him.

She didn't, of course.

"Hello." she said. He ignored her. Eventually she would have to get bored and leave, he hoped. "What are you drinking?"

He furrowed his brow at her and gestured in front of him. He was drinking nothing, as indicated by the lack of mug, and his unfortunate case of sobriety. "What does it look like?"

"I'm sorry, perhaps I should have worded it better; what would you like to drink? I'm buying."

He snorted derisively. "Why?"

She cocked her head gently to the side and smiled. "Because it suits me. Do I need a better reason?"

He didn't really want to give this ridiculous woman any incentive to stick around, but he found himself unable to refuse her offer. A drink would help to calm his nerves, and the barkeep could not pester him if he was actually a customer. "I am not overly selective."

She made her way up to the bar and slid some coin across the counter to Danal, then returned with two frothy mugs of mead. "There you are." she said, placing one of the mugs in front of him.

He eyed both her and the drink with the kind of suspicion most reserved for snakes or strange dogs, but eventually his thirstiness got the better of him and he drank deeply from his mug.

"What's your name?"

His eyes shot back up to the woman and he set the glass down, a good deal lighter than it was before. "Why do you ask?"

"Passing fancy. You're new around here. We don't get many newcomers around these parts."

"Fenris." he said coolly.

"Nice to meet you, Fenris. I am Marian." she said. She extended her hand toward him to shake. He recoiled, like it was a dangerous beast. He didn't ask her name, and he certainly didn't ask to be touched. She nodded and retracted her arm, color rising in her cheeks. "Where are you from?"

He sighed. This Marian was a nosy sort. If he ever wondered what the catch was when she bought him the drink, he wondered no longer. Questions. There was always a catch. "Elsewhere." he replied laconically.

"I think I've heard of that. But why you'd ever want to leave 'elsewhere' for Lothering is curious, indeed."

"My reasons are my own."

He drained the glass down his throat, trying not to meet her steady gaze. When he set his mug down, she quickly got up to refill it for him. She would know a thing or two about "curious", wouldn't she?

"Will you be staying in Lothering long?" she asked as she set the mead down.

He bowed his head in approval at the full mug and began nursing it. As inquisitive as Marian was, at least she seemed determined to get him drunk. It could only help matters.

"Perhaps."

"Are you staying here in the inn?"

She was not getting him drunk quickly enough, apparently.

"Not exactly." he sighed. Credit where credit is due, I haven't lied or ran her through with my blade yet. he thought. Strange how she neglected to notice that, actually. It wasn't a small sword. Most of the time when people saw it they pushed on, and left him in peace. He liked that about his sword.

"Are you here on business?"

The more this woman stuck around, the more convinced he was that she was trying to glean some sort of specific information from him. Whether or not she was close to discovering it, he couldn't guess.

"Just passing through."

"Then are you staying at the Chantry?"

"No."

She physically relaxed at his answer. Ah. So that was it. Why she wanted to know if he was staying in the Chantry or not was also unclear.

"Well, I'll let you get back to it." she said, standing from her seat. "Nice meeting you, Fenris. Perhaps we'll speak again later."

He grunted at her and watched her make her way across the floor, stopping at the bar to say something inaudible to the barkeep and then leaving.

"Oi, knife-ear!" Danal called to him.

He quirked an eyebrow up. Here it comes. He thought, preparing to be pushed out into the swelter of sun.

"There's a room in the back for the week with your name on it. Hot meals and all the mead you can drink to match. Thought you might want to know."

His eyes turned to saucers and he nearly choked on the mouthful of liquid he was working on. "Thank you." he coughed.

"Don't thank me, thank Malcolm's eldest. Taken a fancy to you, it seems. Can't imagine why. That girl's an odd one. They all are, those Hawkes. You'd fit right in with that lot."

Fenris stared agape at the barkeep, who already moved on to polish the tankards with a questionable rag.

All he could think to do was wonder why.

The week went by rather quickly, and Fenris did not see Marian again until day six. He almost missed her completely, in fact, but he caught sight of the back of her head from his window, haggling with a merchant in the village green. He rushed out the door to catch her before she got away.

Her head turned as he approached and her eyes flicked up to his, too blue and guileless, a basket of vegetables hung at her side. "Fenris! Good day to you." she said. Heat rose in his cheeks. She remembered his name. "I trust you have been enjoying your stay so far?"

He blinked a few times, unsure of how to respond to her question or her kindness, at first. "That was...that was most generous of you." he said quietly, looking away. He was ashamed of his earlier abruptness."You have my thanks."

"Don't mention it." she said.

There was an awkward measure of silence between them, where neither was willing to look the other in the eye. Finally she smiled and said "Well, it was nice seeing you again, Fenris, but I must be going. You should get inside, out of the heat."

He nodded and watched her mount a healthy brown mare and retreat in the distance.

Fenris should have left well alone, but he couldn't. The sincerity in her eyes earned his curiosity, and the further she got, the more unshakeable that curiosity became. That's why he followed her back to her farmstead, and that's why he spent the rest of the day examining her from the shadows on her property.

She was greeted by a man in his late fifties, with salt and pepper hair and simple clothes, a pleasant smile played over his lips. A father, perhaps? He took the basket from her, kissing her on the forehead and then he disappeared behind the door of the little building.

Marian herself found her way out to a stable, and began brushing and talking to a her horse.

"Oh, Acorn, how do you manage to get yourself so thoroughly knotted?" she asked. Acorn shook her white mane at her, as if in answer or maybe just to get a rise out of her. "I see. Well, keep doing that and I will have to cut back your sugar cube allowance." she said in mock disapproval.

"I saw that Fenris fellow again, today." she said. Acorn nickered quietly. "I think he's sad. I get the feeling he's had a difficult life."

Fenris stiffened. He wasn't supposed to be there. This wasn't meant for his ears, and yet, he couldn't peel himself away. Why he cared what this fool girl thought of him - correct in her evaluations or not - was puzzling, but he found that he did.

"Hopefully he'll stay in Lothering. If it's anything we've got in spades, it's peace."

Fenris suppressed a bitter laugh. Not for long, while I remain.

"Don't look at me like that." she accused the horse. "Fine. Yes, he's handsome. Are you satisfied? That's neither here nor there, Acorn. Everyone enjoys a chance at happiness."

Fenris felt instantly dizzy. This was more than he needed or even wanted to know.

Acorn stomped her foot and snorted at her. "It's not naive. It's idealistic. There's a difference. Don't judge me! Oh, what do you know, anyway? You're just a horse."

She set the brush down, and kissed the horse on the muzzle. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. We'll talk more later, I promise."

She spent the rest of the day feeding animals with a young woman who might have been a sister, and then in a shouting match with a young man who might have been a brother. Fenris found that he couldn't concentrate, after the Acorn incident.

She had the right way about it; he was not happy and his life was never easy, but how did she extrapolate that much from their two brief encounters? And why was that any of her concern? Then again, the one thing he did know about Marian was that she failed to mind her own business.

Perhaps that was just the way of small-town folk like her. Boredom gave way to inquisitiveness, and he was probably just the latest novelty in town. White-haired elf with strange markings, yes that would do it.

By the time he snapped out of his daze, it was dark already. An older woman stepped outside onto the porch and called everyone inside for supper. Marian made her way in and the door closed behind her.

Fenris glanced back at the village. It was too dark to make out against the black sky, and there might be bandits or wolves prowling about. It would be dangerous to make the trip back by night.

Before he fully accepted this truth, he was already in the stable and eyeing the hay loft. Acorn whinnied at him anxiously and began beating the earth with her hooves. He hummed softly to the beast and stroked her snout, hoping she would calm herself once she realized he was not a threat. She trotted over towards a corner and bobbed her head at a tin on the floor in front of her stall.

Fenris bent to lift the container and shook it gently. He pulled off the lid and found it full of sugar cubes. A bribe, then. I see. He sighed and stole two cubes into his palm. Acorn huffed happily at the sight of them.

He fed the sugar to his stablemate and patted her gently on the neck. She seemed content enough to quiet down, at least.

He climbed into the hayloft and created a makeshift bed from the loose strands, retiring for the night. Weary as he was, he couldn't sleep. He thought of Danarius and what he would think to find his wayward slave sleeping among the beasts of burden.

Four months it was, now. Four months with dogs at his heels, and wind at his back. This was the longest he stayed anywhere, so far. Lothering was never meant to be a destination, just a stop on his wandering path. He owed that at least in part to this Marian girl. That itself was a true mystery to him. Why did she care? What did she stand to gain from helping a stranger like him, even if she did find him 'handsome'? What did she want from him? Her candid private confessions lead him to believe that she did it simply for the sake of being kind, but that was never the case from his experience. Everyone always wanted something. Marian was either a liar or a fool.

But the idea niggled at him relentlessly until he realized that he wanted it to be true. He wanted for there to be one good person in the world to restore his faith in mankind. And for some unimaginable reason he wanted that one person to be this simple, cornfed nobody named Marian. He didn't even know what that meant.

Sleep finally swallowed him up, and the sharp edges of the world softened and blurred. He was tired enough that he would not dream tonight, and for that he was grateful. The last thing he needed was to wake screaming and alert everyone to his presence. He would leave tomorrow, he decided. It would be better that way. Lothering was a pipe dream, just wishful thinking to distract him from the cruelty and hostility of the real world. Lothering was imaginary. Marian was a farce.