A/N: Chapter four is here! I still don't own Dragon Age. I hope you all like it! Please R/R.
Hawke floated slowly upward from a dream she couldn't quite remember, something she knew she wanted more than anything to hold onto for a few more moments. But the more her mind tried to fumble with it, the more slipped away til there was nothing left but the feeling of deep peace it had given her.
Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the thin, pale slant of grey light that filtered in through the window. It was still raining steadily outside. Mother would already be up and cooking breakfast, and Winston would decide she'd been asleep long enough and come to make sure she was up—
But this wasn't home. The walls, while showing signs of disrepair, had once been magnificent. A fireplace, lovingly hand-carved with swirling, graceful designs dominated the opposite wall. In an instant, her whereabouts came rushing back to her, and she sat up.
Fenris!
Maker save her, what had she managed to ruin last night? There had been that one brief, perfect little moment where they were just two normal people, having fun and laughing. And then they were a mage and a former slave again, and he'd shored the walls back up and retreated. She shouldn't have tried to be so damned foolish and playful with him. She should have known better.
Still berating herself, Hawke swept the covers aside and rose, looking around the bedroom. Her gaze fell on a large, bundled thing in the corner, huddled against the wall and her heart almost twisted itself til it broke.
He was there, wrapped up in a blanket and asleep, his dark brows furrowed, expression contorted into a look of deep, savage unhappiness. An empty wine bottle was clutched to his chest, and his fingers twitched against the dark glass now and again. His dreams were clearly not pleasant ones, and she had an immediate suspicion as to the reason.
Magic, he'd said, seemed to follow him like a curse. Even in his dreams there was no escape from Danarius, from the horrors inflicted on him.
The woman hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. On one hand, she wanted to wake him. On another, she knew the proud elf would probably resent her seeing him so vulnerable. She wavered on the spot, torn between her desire to try to protect him and her desire to try and preserve his hard-won pride.
She made her decision—she decided not to decide. Instead, the mage put another log on the fire, stirring it into renewed life. She then departed quietly and headed down to the kitchen to make the elf some breakfast. It was the least she could do for him, and maybe he'd wake up on his own and be none the wiser that she saw him that way.
She'd used to have to wake Bethany up from her nightmares. Her baby sister had always had terrible dreams about the Templars and her magic and losing her family. There had never been shame between the two of them for it. But seeing Fenris like that—it was like seeing something deeply personal and terrible, something not meant for her to see. It was like an invasion of his privacy.
A sigh escaped Hawke's lips as she entered the kitchen. Sure enough, he'd finished washing the dishes after he'd sent her to bed. And he'd called her obstinate! The mage grumbled to herself as she rummaged through what food stores Fenris had. Bacon and eggs! Breakfast of champions. And she could toast up some of the bread they hadn't eaten at dinner.
Moving with purpose made her feel immeasurably better. Keeping her hands busy and focusing on what she needed to do to accomplish her task left her less time to think about the complicated mess she feared she'd made of her already delicate friendship with the handsome elf.
And by the Maker, was he handsome… Those mossy green eyes, those thin lips that so rarely smiled, that perfect baritone voice that thrilled her senses…
Snapping herself out of her thoughts, Hawke drew in a deep breath and pushed the eggs around the pan with renewed ferocity, trying to keep her thoughts in the realm of the practical.
Her next task proved to be more difficult. Fenris apparently didn't keep milk or juice in the mansion, and she wasn't about to serve him wine with breakfast. Granted, wine was all she'd ever seen him drink aside from water if they were traveling, but… well, there had to be something else. And so, Hawke felt triumphant as she found a kettle tucked away in a cabinet along with several neat little bags of tea. In minutes she had the water heated up and had poured him a mug, dunking a teabag in to let it steep.
The woman furrowed her brows. Breakfast was ready, and she'd just kind of planned on him waking up by now. Stupid of her, really. Well, she wasn't about to let the food go to waste. Finding a tray, Hawke loaded it up with the plate of bacon, eggs, and toast, the mug of hot tea, and silverware. She then ventured back to the bedroom where she'd left the sleeping elf.
He was as she'd left him, sound asleep and scowling in the corner. Kneeling beside him, Hawke set the tray aside on the floor and hesitated. Finally she steeled herself and decided to just get it over with. Gently pulling the empty bottle from his grasp, she put it aside and then touched his shoulder. "Fenris," she murmured, "good morning."
The elf's eyes shot open and he drew in a startled breath, jumping and almost shrinking away from her. As his gaze fell on her, he began to relax slowly. "Hawke. Did you sleep well?" he asked stiffly, carefully.
The human inwardly cursed herself. She'd tried to wake him as gently as possible. Maybe if she acted like nothing was wrong, or she hadn't noticed his reaction…? "I did, thank you! And I made you breakfast!" she chirped, using the opportunity to deflect his attention to the tray of food as she scooped it up and set it on his lap.
His brows furrowed for a moment as if in confusion before he gave her a hesitant glance. "I—thank you, Hawke. You should not have done this."
"It was no problem. Hurry up and eat before it gets cold, alright?" she urged him, settling in to lean against the wall beside Fenris.
He picked up his fork, but glanced from the food to her. She felt an almost electric thrill surge through her as she met his gaze. "Aren't you going to eat?" he asked quietly.
"I'm still full from dinner, actually. It was really good-" Fenris cut her off mid-sentence as he promptly stuffed a piece of toast into her mouth. She sputtered and took a bite out of it, chewing and swallowing. While she was preoccupied, he shook his head.
"We can share." His words were so gentle that she almost melted into a puddle right there on the floor.
Still not quite trusting her voice, Hawke could only nod and smile.
Maybe, just maybe, she hadn't ruined things.
