A/N: It's amazing how a flash of inspiration can bring 36 pages and six chapters in three days. Well here's chapter three edited and ready for your enjoyment.
Her dreams were equally dark as her thoughts, when she fell to sleep. The Fade was now kind to her tonight, showing her things long buried. She watched from a chair, which happened to be sitting nearby, as a scene from her played out before her.
Templar, young, strong and utterly cruel had left his armor in a hazard heap in the corner of the Inn's room. It wasn't forced but it wasn't loving or wanted either. She allowed it because he had to, to keep Bethany safe. Give them what they want and they will leave her alone. He was talking to her but she wasn't listening there wasn't even any sounds coming from the scene.
She watched in silence as the last of her innocence was melted away from her.
He didn't know how he got here, this place was strange and alien and not his. He knew this wasn't his dream. He had been having a peaceful dreamless sleep when something started calling him. It was an urgent and pleading voice.
A whispering voice that he couldn't quite hear. Following it and found himself coming upon a scene that truly disgusted him. Looking from the two on the bed he saw her sitting in an arm chair watching.
He looking from her back to the pair and saw who the woman was. His gaze turning back to her he saw tears rolling unbidden down her cheeks.
"There are no secrets in the Fade," she spoke "Why are you here Fenris?" she asked.
"I..I don't know. I heard something and I followed. What is this Hawke?" he asked forcing his nausea down "why do you dream such things?"
"They are memories. Things I cannot forget, you should not see them." She said closing her eyes tight and the images melted away leaving dark space with nothing but, her and the chair.
When she opened her eyes he was kneeling there in front of her. She saw concern in his dream face. He saw nothing but pain and resignation in hers. He felt his chest tightening up at the sight, he wanted her to smile. He understood. No one should have to endure such things.
"How it is you and I can enter each other's dreams?" he asked trying to keep the worry out of his voice.
"I am not sure. It didn't start happening until after I touched you. Perhaps my magic reacted with the Lyrium in your skin bonding us. If so I am sorry. Truly."
"What was that voice I heard?"
She found herself unable to lie to him "A remnant of a spirit that watched over me. One of compassion."
He recoiled from her "Are you...like Anders?"
"I made no deal with the spirit. It gave its life so that I could live. What you hear was the memories of the spirit. It no longer exists, there is only me living off borrowed time."
He had a hard time accepting this but he did not move away. He wanted to know why she was so sad. Why she rarely smiled. As he was about to ask her she raised her fingers to his lips. His face began to tingle, he could bring himself to pull away. His lips were soft, she would remember this.
"Do you really wish to ask me these questions here only to forget the answer when you wake?" she asked "If you really wish to know ask me when you are awake, I promise I will not lie. If you remember what you wanted to ask." She added "it's time to go."
"No." he cried trying to keep her there, from fading away but she shattered at his touch. Leaving him alone and hollow in the vast emptiness that was her part of the Fade.
He woke suddenly. He tried to grasp the fleeting fragments of his dream but he could not. He knew only that he dreamt about Hawke. Fenris didn't know why he was so apprehensive. It frustrated him to no end that he could remember his dream. It seemed so important, so urgent.
I should see Hawke today. He decided rising from bed. He remembered that he would see her at the Hanged Man. Yes she promised. It made him feel a little better. Deciding not to dwell on it, he went about his day, anxiously awaiting night fall.
Her morning was blessedly quiet. Carver had been out very late, according to her mother, so he was blessedly still asleep when she rose and went about her day.
Strangely she had only vague memories of her dreams as well. She knew it had something to do with Fenris and an unpleasant memory. Sometimes she couldn't remember them, other times she could with vivid clarity. Maker knew why.
She stayed out most of the day to avoid Carver as much as possible, going to the Hanged Man at dusk, as she had promised. She smiled at Anders and Varric when she saw them.
"Are you feeling better, Theresa?" Anders asked "I was getting worried about you."
"Nothing some rest didn't fix. No need to worry yourself on my behalf. But it's very sweet of you." She said giving his shoulder a affectionate squeeze before moving to her seat near the fire. She leaned her smooth staff next the hearth, the fire light reflecting off the carved woman at its head.
Anders admired the staff from where he sat before speaking, "Where did you get your staff?"
"It was my fathers." She replied touching it reverently "It passed to me when he died. Along with many of his things from his adventures running from the circle. Her name is Malcom's Honor. After my father."
He didn't know what to say to that, "I'm sorry for bringing that up, it must be hard talking about it."
"No," she answered much to his surprise "not any more. I miss him but it doesn't hurt to talk about him. I honor his memory through my stories, he will not be forgotten." She said with confidence.
"You seem in an especially cheerful mood, Hawke." Varric commented from his seat.
"Why shouldn't I be. Come tomorrow I live to be another year older." She announced.
"So tomorrow's your birthday? On Summerday?" asked Anders leaning forward.
"Sure is." Her smile for once reaching to her ears, though she didn't show any teeth.
Still reserved I see. Anders thought. I will get you to smile.
"Then we must throw Hawke a gracious party." Varric said "one that will make a good story."
She smiled shyly "There's no need to go out of your way."
"Hawke, I insist." Varric's tone held finality.
"I cannot argue with you, Varric. I shall play along." She acquiesced to him.
"Theresa, I'd like to talk to you later if you have some time."
"Of course Anders. It is important?" she asked.
"It doesn't have to be now, it can wait until later." He was about to say something nice about her dress when he noticed the blood stains on her sleeve "Why is there blood on your robe?"
"What?" she asked having completely forgot about it.
"On your sleeve." He reached over to show her "It's all over the inside."
"I cut my hand when I was over visiting Fenris." She noticed his face darken when she mentioned his name "I was picking up a broken bottle. I was careless and cut my hand, nothing to worry about. See" she said holding up her hand "not even a scar. "
"Let me see, you may have damaged something on the inside." He went out taking her hand and inspecting it with his thumbs probing for damage "You should come to me."
She humored him. "I am not without ability to heal myself." She watched him massaging her hand.
"It's nice of you to join us, elf." Varric announced when Fenris came in.
"Dwarf." He greeted, he ignored Anders and glowered at the fact he was touching Hawke's hand "Hawke."
"Hello Fenris." She smiled at him, Anders noticed some teeth in that one, frowning deeper when she removed her hand from his "Did you sleep well?" she asked.
"...yes." it took him a moment to respond to her asking anything remotely close to his well-being. He took on her side of the table away from Anders. "Thank you for asking."
"Handsome and polite." She commented flirtively "they don't make them like that anymore."
She was in good spirits today, flirting seemed like a good idea. Her choices in words proved to be correct when she saw the barest of smiles tug at his mouth.
Anders frowned. Why did she always compliment him like that? Mongrel. He thought sullenly. "I'm going to get something to drink." He announced leaving in a huff.
"I have some favors to call in for tomorrow, Hawke." Varric said "tomorrow is gonna be the best day of your life."
"Thanks Varric, don't go overboard."
"me?" he asked sounding wounded "never."
It made her laugh softly, he could barely hear it. He took the opportunity to move to the seat the mage had just vacated. Not only was it closer to her but it would put him off too.
"What is going on tomorrow?" he asked setting into his rightly won seat.
"Tomorrow is my birthday. Varric has it in his head to throw me a party."
"I see." He tried not to let any emotion creep into his voice. Don't sound disappointed that she didn't invite you. Why would she want you there?
"I would be honored if you came and celebrated with me."
Her invitation surprised him but not half as much as her smile. She looked almost happy. She watched him apprehensively as she waited for him to respond.
"I will be there." He said taking it as another promise of her continue existence. "I brought a bottle of Agreggio with me. Would you like to try some?"
"Oh really?" she asked, perking up "maybe just little. I've always wanted to try some. I don't usually drink, but I'm feeling good today."
That got a half smile from him. She watched him retrieve two glasses and a corkscrew, returning with an open bottle.
"No breaking this one, I don't want to cut my hand again. Anders will have a fit if I cut myself and don't go see him."
He glowered as he poured the glasses keeping his face hidden from her. "You do not need him." Touching you, any part of you. He finished in his head.
"I know. I was only teasing." She said taking the partially full glass from him. "What shall we drink to?" she asked.
"What?" he asked caught off guard by the question.
"It's a special occasion. We have to drink to something. " she explained holding her glass up "I won't drink until we have something to drink to."
"I don't know." He said honestly.
"Well, let's see. How about to friendship. Yes, lets drink to friendship." She suggested.
"To friendship then." He felt a twinge that it wasn't more.
They clinked glasses. As she took her first sip. He watched her face with satisfaction when she hummed in delight.
"That's really good."
"I'm glad you like it." He replied smiling at her. Though he smiled disappeared when Anders came back into the room, whining about him taking his seat.
"I think I am der-unk, Fenris." She said wobbling on her feet, adding an extra syllable to the word.
"I believe you are miss." He chuckled at her intolerance to alcohol. She really must not drink, to get drunk off two glasses.
"Whoa." She cried tumbling over to one side, having tripped over the bench. She fell into Fenris, he caught her one hand on her elbow and the other around her waist. She was hanging onto his shoulders. "Sorry." She said quickly when she realized she was touching him.
He found he didn't so much mind the touching, it was different but not painful, at least not yet. He sat her down before she fell again.
"I think you should sit before you fall down." He said ignoring her apology.
She smiled up at him, it was the most carefree and joyful smile he'd ever seen placed on her. So she does know how to be happy. He thought is it the drink or something else? He wondered.
"Will you walk me home?" she asked "I don't think I can get there on my own."
He looked at the glowering Anders. It brought him insurmountable joy that this was grinding the mage. "I can do that. Come on let's get you home. " he said helping her stand.
"You got that, elf?" Varric asked "Damn Hawke you are a light weight." He commented shaking his head.
"I can handle her." Fenris replied watching Anders scowl harder if that was possible. He almost smiled at that, almost.
"Good night Varric...hic...Anders...hic" she hiccupped again.
He guided her out the door but they didn't get far before she stumbled again. Catching her again he just picked her up, cradling her against his shoulder.
"All right Hawke, which way."
She pointed towards the stairs. His walking slowed when her forehead rested against his neck, causing the lyrium to react. It didn't hurt per se, he wasn't sure how it felt.
Her mouth was dangerously close to his throat, even her breath caused the lyrium to react. It gave him goose bumps. He kind of liked it, strangely enough. She smelled like flowers despite living a more squalid place than he did.
A confused and suspicious Carver opened the door. "What are you doing with my sister?" he asked possessively.
He couldn't blame him for being suspicious over family. "She's drunk," he answered "I am bringing her home. Would you like to take her or will you show me to her room?" he asked offering his cargo to the young man.
"This way." He sighed.
Carver showed him to the room he shared with her. He could guess which bed was hers with the Mabari on it. Fenris laid her down with great care. Watching her get comfortable before leaving.
It was a long walk back to Hightown for him, but he was glad for it. It gave him time to think about his feelings. Why didn't he mind her touch? When he couldn't stand anyone else's? why was it that he wanted to desperately for her to smile and truly be happy?
Do I really...care...about this mage? He wondered no she is a woman, a very special woman. He told himself, but no matter how to said he knew she was a mage. Nothing he could would change that.
He did not come swiftly that night, but when it did he dreamt of Hawke.