I do not own Dragon Age. I make no profit from this work.
"Hawke! Hawke, slow down! Maker, you're fast!" Anders called after her.
"Go away!" she shouted, running through Lowtown. "Just bug off, this has nothing to do with you!"
He finally caught up to her and caught her around the waist, turning her to face him. "You're. . . my friend. I want to make sure you're alright."
"Of course I'm not!" she spat angrily, blue eyes almost glowing. "I have a demon after me! Everyone depends on me for everything! The whole city rides on my shoulders and no one even gives me the courtesy to let my business be mine! Now, if you would kindly let go, I would like to go back to the estate and have a proper bath before crying myself to sleep and going back to the routine dismemberments come morning." She pulled herself roughly from his hold and continued a furious pace back to the estate.
"Doesn't really hold anything back, does she?" Anders muttered to himself.
Gone was the Hawke filled with sorrow and regret. When she entered the front door of the Amell estate, she was only filled with blind rage. She slammed the door behind her, causing the dwarves and elves in the entryway to jump. Oh, right, Orana. And. . .
"Fenris?" Hawke hissed. At his expression, hers softened. "What are you doing here?"
"I. . . wanted to talk to you about Hadriana. About what happened. I took out my anger on you. Undeservedly so. I was not myself. I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Is there a place we may speak privately?"
"If it is about earlier, I understand. You don't have to say anything. Please, just go," she nearly whimpered.
"I brought a bottle of Aggregio. I was hoping. . . we could talk," he started slowly.
Hawke closed her eyes and just sighed, waiting a moment before climbing the stairs to head to her bed chamber. She heard him follow lightly on bare feet, nothing but the slight sound of his armor giving a creak to alert her of his presence. Once she reached the door, she turned to him. "Why do you persist, demon? I always decline. Find another victim, it will not be me."
"Demon?" Fenris was startled by the accusation and took a step back.
"I know what you are. Just move on. Your visions are no longer even believable," she spat, taking the staff from her back.
"You intend to turn on me, thinking I am a demon? Very well, I will go," he replied sharply before turning.
"Are you. . . really Fenris? I don't even know any more," she admitted.
"It no longer matters, there it's nothing for me here."
"Don't go," Hawke whimpered, grabbing his arm, causing his lyrium brands to ignite. "Let us talk. Please."
Fenris nodded and followed her. Within a few minutes, they were seated at a small table, sipping wine straight from the bottle.
"I had no idea where you went earlier. I stopped by your mansion after we got back and you weren't there. I was worried about you," she admitted.
"I. . . needed to be alone," he began, "When I was still a slave, Hadriana was a torment. She would ridicule me, deny my meals, hound my sleep."
Sounds like Mother, Hawke thought, but she dare not say it. "Because of her status, I was powerless to stop it and she knew it. The thought of her slipping out of my grasp now, I wanted to but I couldn't."
"You wanted to?" Hawke inquired after taking a long pull from the bottle before handing it back to the elf.
"This hate," he started, "I thought I had gotten away from it. But it dogs me no matter where I go. To feel it again. To know it was they who put it inside me, its too much to bear." He picked at the label of the bottle nervously, not meeting Hawke's gaze. "No matter," he said, standing. "I didn't come to burden you further."
"You don't have to go," Hawke insisted quickly, grabbing for his arm and sending him aglow once more.
"Hawke-"
Her words flooded from her mouth and spewed out before she could stop it. "Earlier, at the Hanged Man, I'm sorry you were uncomfortable. I don't expect-"
She was tossed out of her chair and onto the plush rug, pinned with he wrists next to her head as his lips assaulted hers. "I have waited so long for this," he growled against her before nipping at her bottom lip.
He tore off his armor covering his hands after noticing the lines of crimson he was pressing into her wrists and he straddled her waist, pinning her once more. "You want this?" she asked meekly. He only growled and pressed himself against her, allowing her to feel his length through his leggings.
Fenris nipped and suckled at every tender spot along her neck and shoulder, leaving angry red marks in his wake before attacking her lips with bruising force. "How could any man not want this? They would have to be daft," he spoke.
"Then all the men I have ever met have been idiots," She said sadly.
Fenris made a nose deep in his throat, a growl so animalistic it sent a burning hot heat straight to her core. He tore her robes down the front with only his hands before kneading the mounds beneath her breast band. That too was torn away, leaving her laying on the fine rug in nothing but a pair of linen smalls.
"Perhaps we could move to the bed?" Hawke suggested. He helped her to stand and watched her move toward the four poster, enraptured by the curve of her backside. He skived her from behind, bending her over the mattress to feel her rounded rear with his hands. He removed his own clothing before ripping away the last scrap of hers and plunging inside her with a wolvish howl.
Hawke gasped at the intrusion, grasping at the sheets at Fenris set a punishing pace, thrusting violently within her. To say she didn't enjoy it would be a lie, but worry tugged at the edge of her mind. She pushed it back for the time and allowed him to continue his ministrations. His hands left her hips, one to find the pearl hidden within her folds and the other gripping the chub of her stomach.
White light blinded her when his teeth met her shoulder and she pulsed around him, holding back a scream. He continued for several minutes longer as she melted beneath him, whimpering softly, before he released within her. They lay there for a while before moving under the covers, Hawke curled into the elf's side before being pulled into the Fade.
. . .
Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was better off the way things were before. She should have just let him go, should not have begged him to stay. She couldn't blame him for what happened. She couldn't blame him for leaving her after, not after every man she had been with had done the same. There must have been something wrong with her. Well, there was, she was. . .fat, but he looked past it, and by the way he had kneaded her flesh she assumed he enjoyed it. Apparently not enough.
Only about two hours had passed before she felt the bed shift. She had brushed it off at first, he needed to use the chamber pot. But the rustling kept her up, the tiny clink of buckles. She shot up out of fear. Maker, no, please.
"Fenris?" she asked timidly.
He turned to her and his knit brows softened at her expression. He had to leave, sort things it. A much as he would like to stay, he couldn't get the images out of his head.
"Was it that bad?" She whispered.
Fenris shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's. . . it was fine."
Fine. So there is something wrong with her. What was she doing wrong? He must have seen the realization twist her face because he continued.
"No, that is insufficient. It was better than anything I could have dreamed."
Even against the fire light, Hawke could see the faint glow of his lyrium. "Was it your markings?" She asked, hopeful. "Do they hurt?" Please don't let it be me.
"It's not that. I began to remember. . . my life before. Just flashes," Hawke sat up and wrapped the sheet around herself, watching him pace by the fireplace. "This is too much. Too fast, I cannot do this."
"I. . .understand," she managed to choke out, her eyes beginning that familiar tingle letting her know the tears weren't far behind.
"I've never remembered anything from before the ritual. There were faces, words. In a moment I could recall everything and in a flash it was all gone."
"We could. . .try again?" she asked, hopeful.
His eyes narrowed. "You don't know how upsetting this is." I do. I do know. "I've never been able to remember anything and to have it all come back in a rush only to loose it. . . I can't. I can't."
"We could work through this. I-i care about you," Hawke stuttered.
"I'm sorry," he winced, turning from her. Knowing he would not stay, she let the tears flow down her face. "I feel like such a fool," he whispered. "All I wanted was to be happy. Just for a little while. Forgive me."
He didn't even look at her before he left and she let the shame fill her. This should have never happened, she shouldn't have pushed him to it. Now it was all ruined, and she was left alone. He used her, just like everyone else. What he said was a lie. He just used her out of convenience just like everyone else. Just like the demon said he would.