A/N: Hello, lovely readers! I'm sorry this chapter is a couple days late. I needed to do a few last-minute edits.
Hope you all enjoy!
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Chapter Seven
9:34 Dragon
Kirkwall, Hawke Estate
She was an invalid now. Fenris wasn't quite sure what to make of that.
Truth be told, neither was she. Hawke spent her days in bed, trying not to show her friends how much she missed her roving-about lifestyle.
But Fenris saw how she sat up straighter whenever Varric told of a fight with any of the mercenary bands that Kirkwall never seemed to run out of. He watched Hawke's muscles tense when Aveline talked about any altercations with bandits or slavers. He saw her eyes mist over when her friends told her that the city was fine for the moment and she should focus on recovering. Hawke shouldn't worry about the safety of Kirkwall while laid up in bed, they said.
They didn't understand. She could no more leave the cares of this city behind than she could wish her own injuries away. As much as she resented it, Hawke was the heart of Kirkwall: when she stopped beating, so did everything else.
And, in truth, the city did seem lifeless as he wandered around it – on the few occasions when someone was able to force him from Hawke's side. Hightown was all but demolished, Lowtown wasn't much better (since the fire had destroyed quite a bit of it), and the Docks were intact, but vandalized. Several anti-Qunari citizens had painted slogans all over the former Qunari compound. As he walked by, Fenris was oddly grateful for his limited reading skills.
He always returned to Hawke's side, however. Fenris sat with her for hours every day, mostly in silence. Aveline had said that Hawke... needed him. And so with her he would remain.
If that were true.
He wasn't sure if he wanted it to be true or not.
Fenris walked into her bedroom as usual, right on the ninth bell of the morning.
Hawke looked up as he came in. She was staying awake for longer and longer periods now. Anders had insisted that was a good thing.
Fenris tipped her a nod, simply saying, "Hawke."
She nodded in return, but she didn't smile at him. She didn't smile at anyone anymore.
Fenris had to admit that of everything he missed about Hawke as she had been, he missed her smile the most. He sat down in his chair beside the bed.
"How do you feel?" he asked, as he always did.
"Well enough, considering," she replied, also as usual.
That was all the conversation they normally exchanged, except for Fenris to ask Hawke if she were hungry around noon or so. It got less awkward by the day, though there was still a niggling doubt in Fenris's mind that he should be talking more. He was uncertain what he should say, however. He did not have Varric's storytelling ability, nor did he have Aveline's reports to make. Fenris simply stayed at Hawke's side until he had to leave, whereupon he went home. There was nothing for him to say. Why did he expect himself to speak?
"Fenris?" Hawke asked, breaking his chain of thought.
He looked at her, concerned. Hawke didn't normally speak unless she needed to, ever mindful of Anders's warnings not to exert herself. Did she need something? Was she in pain?
"Why are you here?"
Fenris blinked. Why was he here? What manner of question was that?
"Because you are injured," he replied, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Ah," Hawke said, her cheeks turning a rather fetching shade of pink. "I see."
Fenris didn't understand. Surely it was obvious that he was here for her. She required someone at her side until she was well again, and he had chosen to take that role. To his mind, there was nothing confusing about it, nothing that would warrant a question.
Then again, he rarely knew what Hawke was thinking in relation to him. After what had happened that night, when he had left her, he had not expected for her to wish to see him again. And yet she had asked Sebastian to look for him. That required an explanation, but his presence here was simple enough to understand, if awkward.
"Then... thank you," Hawke said, her blush deepening. "For being here, I mean."
Fenris was reasonably certain that he would never understand this woman.
"You... are welcome, Hawke," he replied, looking away from her, "but it is the least I could do. I owe you a debt, if you'll recall."
"And I've told you more than once to forget about it," she said, a small smile playing across her lips at last, "if you'll recall."
"I'm afraid I don't remember that," he remarked, feeling playful. Perhaps this was the way to draw Hawke out.
"Don't you?" she asked. "Then..."
Hawke's eyes suddenly widened, as if in horror.
"Shit," she swore, clapping her good hand over her mouth. "Fenris, I'm sorry."
She was sorry? Sorry for what? What had just happened?
"I don't see anything you need to apologize for, Hawke," he said, confused.
Hawke looked at him in a combination of sympathy and fear. "Your memory?"
Fenris sighed in irritation. I suppose she is just trying to be considerate, he thought. But she does not need to coddle me.
"I believe I was the one joking that I couldn't remember," he said, trying not to let his annoyance show.
"Were you?" Hawke replied nervously. "Perhaps we should check that my memory is well. I appear to have forgotten that."
"Perhaps we should," he agreed, chuckling. This was the Hawke he remembered."You normally use more... creative swears."
"Do I, now?" she asked, feigning confusion. "How unusual."
"You are not quite the typical woman, Hawke."
He immediately regretted saying that. Not because it wasn't true, but because it strangled the playful mood. Hawke looked away from him, a faraway look on her face.
"Sometimes I wish I were."
It was odd. Usually, Fenris could not fathom Hawke's thoughts, but sometimes they were as clear to him as his own.
Now was one of those times.
He understood her longing to be just like everyone else. He knew that she was tired of being different. Hawke was, simply, the only one who was willing and able to stand up for others – metaphorically speaking – and she would be marked by that, no matter what she tried or where she went. It was that difference that caused her to stand out in Kirkwall and forced all of its problems onto her shoulders. She had a generous, giving soul and a strong conscience. If it were not Kirkwall forcing her to solve its problems, it would be somewhere else. Hawke would not allow another to suffer if she could prevent it. Even though that philosophy had recently turned her into an invalid, Fenris knew she would never have traded it away.
Fenris wished he had the words to tell her that he understood her pain, that he admired her strength, or that she was admirable in her unconventionality – but he didn't.
He wished he had the courage to take her hand, as he had done when she was less able to speak, when she needed him – but he didn't.
All he was able to do was sit beside her, as she worked through her moment of weakness.
She would emerge the stronger for it. Of this Fenris was sure.
If alcohol could rebuild Kirkwall, the patrons of the Hanged Man would have been able to repair it thrice over. It was warmer, filthier, and noisier than Fenris had ever seen it. Every table was packed full, as if everyone in Lowtown had come to the pub all at once.
Which may well have been the case, Fenris reflected. It was the only pub in Lowtown that was still standing.
Varric had called a "team meeting" in his suite that evening; Fenris was not sure what to expect. When the dwarf got involved, things tended to get... dramatic.
Fenris was uncertain if any of them needed things to turn for the theatrical. Hawke's single combat with the Arishok was enough story for anyone's taste. He hoped.
The door to Varric's suite was hospitably open, as usual. Fenris noticed that, aside from the abomination, he was the last to arrive. Aveline, Merrill, and Sebastian were sitting around the table. Each had an untouched drink in front of them. Varric was at the head of the table with two mugs in front of him, one full and one recently drained. Tonight he had apparently broken his rule of "never actually drink anything at the Hanged Man."
This must be serious, Fenris thought without irony.
"Oh good, Elf, you're here," Varric said, nodding at Fenris. "We can get started."
Fenris leaned against the wall by the door, bowing slightly at everyone in greeting. Merrill and Sebastian smiled at him. Fenris returned one of them.
"Are we not waiting for Anders?" Aveline asked.
"No, I'll fill Blondie in later," Varric said. "He can't make it tonight."
"What's this all about, Varric?" Sebastian asked.
"Hawke," Varric replied. "She's... not doing well."
"Anders said that –" Merrill began.
"I mean her spirits, Daisy. She's not the Hawke we all know and... well, she's not the Hawke we know, anyway."
Aveline chuckled in spite of herself. "I think she'd hit you for that."
"That's the problem," Varric said, his real concern showing. "She hasn't hit me once since she was injured. And I've really deserved it a few times!"
"Only a few?" Fenris asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I think Varric is trying to be serious," Sebastian said, trying to restore order. "Though, to be fair, it is hard to tell."
"Thanks, Choir Boy," Varric replied. "I think."
He picked up the full mug of ale in front of him and took a swig.
"Hawke is family," Varric said, admitting the truth for a change. "And she's not doing well. We need to fix it, if we can."
"How do you propose we do that?" Aveline asked.
"I'm... open to suggestions," Varric said.
It was clear that he had no idea how to fix this problem.
Truth be told, neither did Fenris. And from the looks on their companions' faces, they didn't have any ideas, either.
"Well, her room doesn't have a window," Merrill said. "Maybe she feels trapped because she can't see outside at all?"
They all looked at Merrill in disbelief.
"I mean, she can't move or get up, and she can't even look at anything but the walls. That would depress anybody," Merrill chattered, her cheeks beginning to flush. "If she could look out a window, she could see trees and people and... the weather... and I'm rambling, aren't I? I'm sorry."
"Actually, that's a fine point," Aveline said. "Hawke is basically trapped in her room."
"And what would be the alternative?" Fenris asked. "She was gravely injured. She is only now well enough to sit up."
"Perhaps we could move her to another room," Sebastian suggested. "Do the guest bedrooms have windows? Or the library?"
"Or maybe we could get her out of her room once in a while," Varric said. "Just a thought."
"She cannot stand yet, Varric," Fenris retorted.
"Hmm," Varric thought for a moment. "An old friend of mine in the Anderfels is an invalid. I bet I can dig up how he moves around. Any other suggestions?"
They were all silent for a few minutes, as each thought about ways to help their friend.
"She needs something to do, I think," Aveline suggested. "As long as I've known Hawke, she's been doing something – working for that smuggler, doing odd jobs for the Deep Roads expedition, helping the Viscount with the Qunari..."
"You think Hawke is just bored, then?" Sebastian asked, incredulous.
"It makes sense," Aveline argued. "She has always been active, and now she is forbidden from doing the things she enjoyed."
"So, we want to give her a change of scenery and something to do... anything else?" Varric asked.
"... Companionship," Fenris said.
Everyone's attention focused on him.
"When her mother died, she lost the only real family she had left," Fenris continued, turning his face to the wall so that no one would see him blush. "Perhaps she feels... alone."
"One of us is usually with her," Aveline said.
"But we can't be with her all the time," Varric replied. "Good thought, Elf."
Fenris nodded, silently acknowledging the compliment.
"She needs a project, a new location, and companionship," Sebastian said. "How do we give her that?"
All five of them paused. This was the million-sovereign question.
"I've no idea," Aveline said after a moment.
"I don't either," Sebastian agreed. "Who knew taking care of one Fereldan would be so difficult?"
Varric's head shot to Sebastian.
"What did you say, Choir Boy?" he asked. His eyes were wide and shining with either hope or alcohol.
"Are you all right, Varric?"
"I'm fine," Varric insisted. "What did you just say?"
"What, 'who knew taking care of one Fereldan would be so difficult'?"
Varric grinned a crafty little grin.
Fenris hated that smile. It always meant trouble.
"Choir Boy, I think you've just solved our problem."
"Varric," Hawke asked a few days later, "why is this box moving?"
"Lots of boxes move, Hawke," Varric replied airily, examining his fingernails. "It's just a fact of life."
"Right," Hawke said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She looked down at the box on her lap. It was a large-ish crate with holes poked in the sides and a removable lid.
Fenris was unsure how well this idea of Varric's would go over with Hawke. His plan was to procure this gift with all of Hawke's friends in the room as she opened it, so she would know it was from all of them.
Fenris was, however, the only one with reservations about this plan. The others had been perfectly confident that it would work, at least somewhat.
Scratching noises could be heard from inside the box.
"What the ...?" Hawke began.
"You should open it, Hawke," Merrill giggled.
Hawke pulled off the lid of the crate. She gasped as she took a quick look at what was inside.
Her eyes snapped to Varric, "Is it – ?"
Varric nodded with that crafty smile of his. "From all of us."
Hawke reached into the box and pulled out the puppy they'd all bought her. It was a small thing, for now, with light brown fur and large, dark brown eyes.
Hawke and the puppy stared at each other for a long moment. They seemed to have a silent conversation that the others were not privy to. After a minute or two, the dog snuggled into Hawke's shoulder.
"A Mabari," she said as if she didn't quite believe it. "Where did you even find one?"
"Remember Lirene? She runs the Fereldan import store in Lowtown? Well, it turns out that a woman with contacts in Ferelden is able to get a Mabari easily," Varric said, chuckling. "Go figure."
"Should I be offended? I feel like I should be offended," Hawke remarked, holding the dog in front of her face and asking it.
The puppy licked her nose in response.
"Well, that settles that," she said, putting it down on her lap. It turned around in a circle three times and then lay down. Hawke began absently petting it.
"Now, I'm not an expert on Mabari," Sebastian began, "but I know that they choose their owners."
"It's called imprinting," Hawke replied with a nod.
"How do you know if this one has chosen you?" he asked.
Hawke looked down at the dog. "You know, that's a good question. Do you want to go live with him instead?"
The puppy looked at Sebastian and growled, its eyes narrow and its teeth bared.
A general chuckle went around the room.
"You'd like to stay here, then?" Hawke asked.
The puppy licked Hawke's petting hand repeatedly.
"I think it's decided," Hawke smiled at the dog, who continued licking her hand."Is it a boy or girl?" Hawke asked.
"This one's a male," Anders said. "There were others on standby in case this one didn't imprint on you, but I think we've got that settled."
"What are you going to name him, Hawke?" Merrill asked.
"Hmm..." Hawke paused for a moment, thinking. "How about... Vascal?"
The dog kept licking her hand, oblivious to her suggestion.
"Oi. Puppy," Hawke said, trying to get the dog's attention. He turned to look at her. "How would you like to be called 'Vascal'?"
Fenris remembered the afternoon where Hawke had read him the story of Lord Remi Vascal, the Black Fox. He was a clever, cunning man who outwitted the nobility to help the common downtrodden folk. A fine name for a wardog, Fenris thought.
The dog yapped his agreement, then snuggled tighter, trying to get closer to Hawke.
"Vascal it is," Hawke chuckled. She looked over at her friends, positively beaming. "Thank you, lads. This was sweet of you."
Fenris had to admit that Varric had come up with a brilliant plan. Hawke hadn't looked this happy since... well, since before they killed Hadriana.
"Don't mention it," Varric said, waving her thanks away. "We'll leave you two alone to get acquainted."
Hawke smiled at her companions as they left the room, each of them offering congratulations and welcomes to the new member of the team.
After he left, Fenris paused outside the door, listening to Hawke chatter amiably to Vascal for a moment.
Varric has outdone himself this time, Fenris thought, suppressing a chuckle. Let us hope this changes things for the better.
He walked away, out of Hawke's estate and into his own mansion, which seemed much colder and more empty now.
