Dragon Age 2 isn't mine. It belongs to Bioware. So is Fenris and my version of Hawke and all the wonderfuness of the world of Thedas!
I blame all written works on the bioware community for inspiring me to write about the stuff in between the years for Angel Hawke and Fenris. Much love to be had by all. Be kind!
Pace
He paced. He liked pacing, it always helped give him perspective. The motion of his feet, the strain on his muscles as he moved quickly from one side of the room to the other. The repetitive motion, it helped. A little sweat was never bad, and with the way the fire raged in the hearth as he walked back and forth did its part in adding to the heat building inside of him.
Thoughts and visions swam in his head as he paced. Images of Anders, that abomination, and the way he stared endlessly at Hawke. The words were Isabela's, laced with jealousy and malice. [i]"... caught them in quite the steamy embrace..."[/i]He growled, pausing mid-stride to punch his fist into the stone wall, through the stone wall. He would kill that disgusting abomination for so much as looking at her! Tear his heart out and make him watch it beat in his hand as the last of his life went out of him!
The pacing continued, picking up as if it had never ceased. His jaw aching from the repressed scream that threatened to tear itself out of his chest. Could he really believe the Pirate? Was she just jealous that he had very clearly made it known that her advanced were unwelcome? Hawke couldn't have.. she wouldn't have.. and with that abomination!
His memory flared, flashes of her lips, her touch. His face grew hot, and he stopped to smash his fist through an already broken table. How could he have been so stupid! Why would anyone like Hawke love him? Love.. he didn't deserve love. Didn't deserve to be content, to be happy. It had made him soft. He was being used, and even the untrustworthy pirate had been able to see it.
Pacing. It wasn't helping like it normally did. The anger burned in his veins, tightening his chest like the heat from a thousand suns. He would kill the apostate and then he would leave. Yes, leave, before she could come calling for him again. He'd been a damned fool. He put his foot through the unused bed, literally, causing the dusty piece of furniture to crack and splinter with the force of his anger.
"Fernris?" To late, he thought. He should have gone sooner. Shouldn't have stayed pacing. She was standing there, in the doorway, with those big brown eyes. Eyes more golden then brown, and full of emotion. Good, they should! They should feel remorse for taking advantage of him!
"What do you want?" he spat in her direction, the anger spilling out into his words.
She recoiled as if he'd slapped her. Good! She should feel as I feel! Her voice trembled, "Fenris, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong? What's wrong?" He laughed. It was bitter sounding, and tasted like the acid he put behind his words. "I was.. informed... that dispite what we've been through, what I promised.. that you have.. found.. solice... in HIM."
Those golden brown eyes widened. In Shock? Surprise? Her dark eyebrows disappeared completely into the hair spilling out of her lazy ponytail. That's right, I know! "Fenris, that's not..."
"Not what? Not how you wanted me to find out?"
"No!" She was trembling. Hawke, with all her strength and courage was falling to peices in front of him. He'd sworn never to let her break because of him again, and there she was, breaking. Good! She should shatter into a thousand peices for lieing! "Who told you that!" she was asking, no, demanding. Determination crept into this woman's face for just one instant, before going out like a snuffed candle and returning to developing state of broken.
"Does it matter? I know. I know you went to him..!"
"No, I didn't! I didn't Fenris. I went to talk, nothing more!"
"LIAR."
She flinched, tears rolling down those beautiful cheeks. He felt his heart break, seeing her cry. He shook his head, tried to ignore it. "I'm not lieing, Fenris! I love you. He kissed me, and I ran. It was wrong, and reminded me that I love only you. I SWEAR IT." She was sinking to the ground, her voice disintegrating in between the sobs that came from her throat. Tortured sobs, each one crashing into Fenris. Each one melting the layers of anger and hatred.
He moved across the room, and scooped her up in one swift motion. He pulled her into his arms and ran his bare fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry." It was just that simple. Her voice and demeanor, the violent shaking had been all he needed to see, to hear. He knew she was not lieing. "I'm sorry for ever believing Isabela.. and I will kill him for touching you."
Pacing. It felt as if he was pacing forever. Her words echoed in his head, [i]"No, don't. Please. He was trying to protect me, he just doesn't understand.."[/i]
They had been talking of her family, she had said. Something he couldn't do with her, compair stories of his past with hers. They'd been talking about her father, and she'd made mention that Anders reminded her of Malcome. It hurt, a little, to know that that abomination reminded Hawke of her father. He could not remind anyone of a loved parent.
It hadn't been made apparent that they'd reconciled. No one knew. Well, no one knew outside of Varric and Isabela. Those two always managed to know everything Hawke was doing. It irritated him a bit, but the thought didn't linger. Hawke's voice returned to the forefront of his mind. Anders had asked if she still loved Fenris, and she had admitted that she did. That bit of information had sent his heart in a round of thumping that threatened to cause his chest to explode.
Anders had always liked Hawke. Even Fenris knew that. Isabela constantly teased the two of them about their dual infatuations with the woman, usually while in the company of each other and Hawke. Hawke had always just blushed and miraculously found herself with something suddenly super important to do.
So when Anders saw her hurting, she'd said, he gave caution to the wind and had kissed her, to show her that someone could love her back. He hadn't known that She and Fenris had reconciled. She hadn't accepted the advance, chosing to flee rather then take fault in the apostate's actions.
The whole thing made him hot, and caused him to pace. More pacing, as if it would never end and he'd forever be trapped in a loop of endless back-and-forth movement and angry thoughts. He'd promised her that he wouldn't kill the abomination, but she hadn't said anything about just talking with him. Yes, just talking.
He left his blade at home. Better not to bring a weapon with him. He didn't need it anyhow. If he was driven to destroy the face of the golden apostate, he much prefered to use his fists. He closed the door of Denarius's mansion, pulling hard to make sure it actually closed, and headed down the stairs towards Lowtown.
"So, are you going to kill him?" The voice purred in his ear as he walked, and he resisted the urge to swing. Isabela. "What about her? Did you tear her heart out and shred it into little pieces?"
"No. It's none of your concern, wench."
"Oh, poor Fenris. Did your heart get broken? Why don't you let me put it back together.."
"I suggest you get away from me before I do to you what I promised I wouldn't do to him."
The teasing halted, but he continued to hear her footsteps behind him. After a few moments of silence, she spoke again. "So what DID happen? Neither of them will talk about it, and I am just dieing to know."
"It is not your concern." He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath. Once upon a time he would have thought this woman worth knowing, even for curiosities sake. Now, all he wanted to do was break that smug face.
"So it's true then. He did kiss her! From your reaction I take it that it was less then welcomed though. A shame, really. Anders is fun. She doesn't know what she's missing out on."
"Why does it not surprise me to find out you have even slept with that abomination."
"It's a gift." He could feel that smirk on the back of his neck. It made him itchy. He turned a corner, heading towards the docks. It wouldn't be much longer before he was in the Undercity. What would he say, when he got there? Would he be able to talk at all, or just put his fist through the man's face?
"Oh you're no fun. Fine, go break his color bone or something. Just remember, I'm sure she'll be quite irritated if you kill him. Toodles!" and with that, the pirate was gone.
He kept walking. The cool evening air helped to calm his anger. Maybe it was a bad idea, confronting Anders. Maybe it better if he just turned around and headed right back up to his mansion. Maybe stop and visit with Varric at the Hanged Man, get a drink. Play some cards and forget all about the burning need to tell that apostate to keep his lips off of his woman.
His woman. Did he even have the right to call her that? As if she were as much a possession as his sword or his armor? She didn't belong to him, even if he felt as if she belonged with him. She was no possession, she was but an extension of himself, a piece of his whole. So yes, she was his woman, as he was hers.
Darktown. The smell of rotting, everything, met his nostrils and he cringed. The darkness of the night seemed so much more bleak and destitute here. Yet, you could always find safety here, if you knew what to look for. The lit lanterns. He followed them, leading him directly to the healing clinic that Anders ran and lived-in. When they were lit outside his door, it meant he was in, awake, and practicing his healing magics.
The thought of magic gave him an unpleasant chill, bringing goosebumps and the dull throb of pain to his markings. Hawke's own talent for magic had stopped bothering him some time ago. Hawke was what he refered to as a Strong mage. Someone who didn't take her powers for granted, and was always aware of the dangers she faced. Anders, was not such a mage.
He saw the apostate before the apostate saw him. Busy, healing a young boy who looked ill and weakened. Fenris waited, watching as the apostate used his magic to bring the boy out of unconsciousness, the sheen of his fever falling away as the lad sat up. This alone was the reason Fenris tolerated Anders even being near the rest of his friends. Anders could heal, far better then even Angel could.
After a quick embrace of thanks, the lad was off, and the clinic was empty, save Anders and Fenris.
"What." Anders looked at him, brown eyes full of steely hatred.
"I came here to talk."
"What, in all of Thedas, do you want to talk to me about. Come to harp on mages again?" Anders sneered. , "Or perhaps you're here to remind me that I'm 'a breath away' from you turning me over to the templars?"
"No. I came here to talk about Hawke."
Ander's face fell, but it was a fleeting look. The arrogant mask Anders carried returned almost as fast as it had vanished. "What about her? Shouldn't you be busy telling her that she's a danger to the world and should jump off a clif to spare us all?" Anders shook his head, walking towards his desk.
Fenris took a deep breath, doing everything in his power not to break the face of this mage. "I would never tell her that. You know as well as I do that if the world were filled with Mages like Hawke, no one would need fear them."
"Or everyone would" Anders laughed momentarily, playing up the joke that Hawke could single handily set the world on fire.
"Yes. Never the less, I didn't come here to talk to you about how skilled she is, or my opinions on magic."
"Well then, what did you want? Just felt up to harassing me again?"
"I came here to tell you not to touch her again."
Anders froze, the laughing smirk still plastered to his face. It took a moment, but eventually it was replaced with pure anguish and the hatred that the apostate held only for him. "How.. dare.."
"I would never presume to tell her what she can or cannot do. I know better then that. Yet, I can make it perfectly clear for YOU, abomination." He wasn't sure when he had moved, or if it had been Anders himself that had walked half way across the room, but one more time he found himself with a solitary finger pressed firmly against the breastbone of the man in front of him. "I promised her I wouldn't kill you, and its not a promise I intend to break. That doesn't mean I'll allow you to touch her again."
Anders was staring at his hand as if it were about to eat him. Fenris wasn't sure it wouldn't. He did his best not to wince as the mage in front of him began to glow. "I will never understand what she sees in you. You're not a man, you're a beast. You'll hurt her one day, bite the hand that feeds you.. and I will be there to pick up the pieces."
"I would die first."
"That can be arranged. Now get out of my clinic. Again."
There, I've managed to post everything that I have written so far. At least for this story. I'll start updating this regularly! Please, comment, critique, correct my spelling and grammar! Just, be kind. My ego is fragile! *heart*
