Chapter 10

And Seek.

The pirate had watched the woman closely for the past few weeks, picking up on her friend's foul mood when it'd first started and watching it deteriorate ever since. Even at her worst moments Hawke was generally lighthearted, open. But recently she'd been suspiciously glum, and – true to Isabella's suspicions – the moment Fenris had slunk into the suite a few nights ago, Hawke had capsized, and by now her poor friend was assuredly drowning in heartache – Hawke was foolish like that.

It was horrendously obvious to the observant Riviani that even if he hadn't realized it himself, Fenris was in love with the woman. Secretly she'd been rooting for him from the beginning – if she couldn't have him at least she might be able to weasel some saucy details out of Hawke. But if he kept this up there would only ever be fighting, never fucking. It was an outcome she did not want, and Isabella always got what she wanted; she always had a plan to get it.

And this plan was going to be fun.

With all her characteristic boldness and lack of tact Isabela stood and reached across the table for her drink, leaning to put her buxom attributes directly in Fenris's line of sight. True to his nature the stuffy elf spared her ego no mercy in his quick and annoyed retreat. Sighing as she plopped back into her seat the pirate looked belatedly at the only man alive immune to her many charms. "Well, it's obviously not me." She said with a pout. She'd known of course, but sometimes miracles happened.

"What?" Fenris's glare swung on the pirate in full force. He was annoyed, forced to wait in this small room for Varric, forced to wait for another key to another cramped hiding place where he could sit and think about Hawke, and worry about Hawke, and want for Hawke. Fenris had no patience for Isabela and her games; he was in an incredibly foul mood.

"I doubt it would be me, either." Merril spoke up quietly. "He's never really liked me much. But then, I've never noticed if Fenris likes anyone. Except Hawke, of course. But everyone likes her, so I don't know if that counts."

The warmth was suddenly sucked out of the room by the force Fenris's frosty regard. "What are you saying, witch?" he hissed quietly.

Isabela hummed richly, watching the fire behind those green eyes. This would be easy. "Kitten, why don't you go get us some more drinks."

"But we don't need more ye-…" understanding dawned on the elf's delicate features. "Right. More drinks," she agreed, turning a knowing smile on Fenris before leaving the room in a rush of giggles, abandoning him to a hungry pirate with no place to hide.

"What are you playing at?" he asked, suspicious eyes narrowing dangerously. He did not trust this woman.

Isabela smiled coyly, her full lips twisting up into a devilish smirk as her reply froze his heart. "I know about the Curse you're under, Fenris."

He was quiet for a moment, frozen in disbelief. Even though he was angry, even though he had doubts of her intent, he'd never suspected Hawke would betray his trust. Especially not to Isabella. The woman was more than just a pirate queen; she was a queen of Gossip! This damned Curse was not something he wanted people knowing about, hadn't Hawke understood that?

Apparently his rising anger was thinly veiled, because Isabella dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "She was quite drunk when she spilled. She likely doesn't even remember." This was little consolation to the furious elf, and Isabela's eyes twinkled mischievously as she watched him fume. "It must be terrible." She said with mock empathy, knowing her next breathy words would burn as much as any betrayal. "Loving a woman while she loves another? Knowing that instead of you in her bed, it's Anders?"

"I don't have to listen to this." Fenris said furiously as he stood, tension causing his fists to clench sparodically. Eager to get away from Isabela's sharp tongue, from the constant reminder of Hawke's choice he moved for the door, not caring if Varric was getting another key, not caring about hiding any longer.

"You know she's only with him because she thinks you're Cursed for another…" the pirate said nonchalantly, watching his tense back closely as he froze, hand inches away from the handle.

Despite himself, Fenris couldn't leave in that moment, couldn't walk out on Isabela's twisted sport, and he couldn't stop the small flare of hope that set his heart beating faster. He knew it was a lie, knew she was just playing some demented game…But what if she wasn't? Tentatively he looked back at her, waiting for her to continue.

Standing, the woman locked her suddenly hungry eyes on him. "But I know differently." She said walking slowly towards him, hips swaying seductively; the prowl of a huntress. "I know you're bound for Hawke." The pirate continued, coming ever closer, but Fenris found he couldn't turn away, couldn't just open the door and leave. "I know you love her." Putting her full lips to his ear she breathed huskily, "I know you ache for her."

Furiously he shoved her back. "You know nothing," he hissed as he stalked away from the door, away from her, his voice dark with pent up anger and pain.

"What's wrong, elf?" she chuckled knowingly, her hungry eyes lit devilishly. "Can't have the one you want? Don't know how to deal with this lust?" the last word clicked off her tongue with all the dark connotations of a cuss. She came close again, and Fenris could smell the stale alcohol, the putrid scent of too much revelry - so different from the light smell of another. "I could help you with that. I know how to take all your cares away." He didn't understand what this spell was, but he couldn't keep himself from watching her tongue sweep out to wet her full lips. Couldn't stop thinking about Hawke. Couldn't stop wishing this were Hawke. This woman was worse than a desire demon, her words hypnotic. "I could teach you how to show Hawke you want her. I could teach you how to best Anders."

She was poised with barely inches between them, ready to pounce if he showed any signs of weakness, of giving in, her dark eyes full of unveiled intent. Fenris had seen this look before, and if hadn't said yes then, he sure as hell wasn't going to now. He could never imagine himself with Isabela; never want her like he wanted Hawke. The thought of being with this woman was repulsive, terrifying, and yet…

What she'd said had echoed with truth. It was an insecurity that haunted him, that partnered with his powerful fear of touch. He didn't know how to show Hawke he wanted her; he didn't know how to give a woman pleasure. He'd witnessed the act, knew the basic mechanics, but most of what he'd seen had been twisted and evil, a part of that dark game of masters and slaves. Danarius and Hadriana had taken their own pleasure whether the participants were willing or not. Fenris had seen them both in the throes of passion, knew the acts that brought it to them, but he would never liken Hawke to either one of those disgusting monsters. Surely what the young woman wanted was different, something Fenris had never learned of in his life of pain and hatred.

But Anders knew.

Despite his hatred for the mage, the elf wasn't deaf. He'd heard Ander's and Isabela talk, he'd heard the stories. And by all accounts the man was as talented a lover as they came. He was charming, witty, and was able to give what Hawke needed. He was everything Fenris was not, and every male instinct the elf had balked against the man's superiority. The knowledge of them together was so utterly devastating because with it had come the damning realization that he could never fight for her, could never offer what she wanted; he'd never had a chance. Fenris would give anything to be on level ground with the mage, would give anything to be good enough to be with Hawke.

Isabela's offer was suddenly much more tempting.

The warring emotions were clear on his handsome face and as she watched his indecision take hold the pirate smiled. The outcome of this little game didn't matter, either way she got what she wanted. "Just think of Hawke," she breathed softly.

Fenris shivered. That was exactly what he wanted to do at the moment. Months of pent up frustration and want made his resolve weaken, made him need release and Isabela knew it. Ever so slowly he let the tension ease out of his body, let his guard lower.

There was a weakness behind his hesitant eyes, and Isabela was over eager to take advantage of it. Knowing he would never make the first move she reached for his hand, slipping her dexterous fingers through his, brushing his calloused palm.

But with a sharp hiss of breath he jerked his hand out of reach, and the sudden wildness in his dark eyes thrilled her. This man was feral, unpredictable, and utterly exciting. Whether it was what Fenris truly wanted or not, Isabela made up her mind in that moment about how her game was going to end.

Moving with him as he tried to step away, to escape, she swept in, intent on pressing her lips to his, intent on winning. There was a fraction of an inch, a hair's breadth between them, the heat of his sharp, quick breaths caressing her lips. It was luxurious, sensual and Isabela basked in the moment for just a second.

A second too long.

The door to the small room crashed in, the resounding bang rattling it on its rusted hinges. The sound shocked Fenris back to his senses, and quicker than Isabela could follow he jumped away from her.

But the longing pout the pirate sent his way was of no concern to Fenris. The only thing that concerned him was the frantic guardswoman standing in the doorway. "Hawke," she said breathlessly, loose strands of red hair fluttering around her tense face. "Hawke's in trouble!"

.oo:OO:oo.

Varric chuckled deeply, "Is that so, Daisy?" he asked humorously as he walked with her back towards the room he'd left Fenris in. The elf had been adamant not to be left in his suite and the dwarf had to wonder if it was because the hunted warrior was trying to hide his connections, or if he was just afraid of a surprise appearance from Hawke. Either way, the elf was being a fool, and Varric was begging to wonder if it was a trait common of the race. He'd never shared the majority of the world's racism towards Elvhan kind, but recent revelations of the two elves he knew well were making him wonder just how rampant blind naiveté ran in their blood.

"O yes! There are sea monsters!" exclaimed Merril, her face lit animatedly. "A sailor told me about them. Like dragons, only long and slippery, and they breath foam, not fire. He lost many of his clan to them, and was a very brave man to have fought off monster of the like, even tamed one. Said he'd let me see his sea serpent if I stopped by his room tonight. Do you think there are sea monsters in the Harbor, Varric?"

The dwarf snorted "I think if there were, it would make a fine story to charm a pretty girl." Sometimes, he worried for the too-innocent elf. "Listen, Daisy…" but whatever warning he'd been about to give died on his lips as a white haired blur flashed past him, speeding for the door. Was that…the elf? Not long after a frazzled Aveline followed down the steps, armor clanking with each driven step.

"Hawke's in trouble. The Forgery," was all she said as she too rushed past them.

"You heard her, Daisy. Let's go get our things."

But the lithe woman didn't follow him. "I don't think we should, Varric. We'll interfere in Isabela's plans."

Varric looked at the elf skeptically. "There are two kinds of people in this world that like to play games, Daisy. Men and pirates that like to meddle in other people's problems. And you can't trust either."

.oo:OO:oo.

Those three words erased every moment of the past 3 weeks, every second of worry, every doubt he'd harbored against her. It was strange but in that moment when cold dread had swept over him it was as if a great uncertainty had been erased, a blindness lifted from his eyes and he'd finally been able to see things clearly. Hawke was important to him, she always had been – and not just because of some twisted Curse - and now that she was in danger he must go to her. It was a single mindedness he had not felt in a very long time, a surety that had been rare throughout his life.

But it was also a dread, a fear that gifted a swift urgency to his steps, a terror that he would not reach her in time. Dread kept his heart beating fast as he sped out of the inn, as he rushed to reach Hawke in time. He hadn't waited for Avaline to explain; he'd only had to be told where to go because he'd known who she was fighting; he understood what Hawke was up against.

He'd been right, and too afraid - too selfish - to return to her side. He should have put his own wants and insecurities aside; he should have been here to support her.

While he'd been hiding in the shadows and the slums for weeks like a sniveling coward, she'd been left vulnerable, unprepared. When he could have been by her side protecting her, he'd left her defenseless.

He'd left her alone to face Hadriana.

Fenris only hoped he wasn't too late.

Oh no! Hawke's in trouble!

Will Fenris reach her in time? or will he loose the woman he loves to the demons of his past?

tune in next time to read: Lost

Reviewers:

sorry if the last chapter was slow, but you have to have the calm before the storm, and the bit of drama before the romance ;)

merit: i am so sorry that you had too loose both of them so quickly. i can't imagine experiencing a loss like that. i hate to say it, but i hope you weren't too close to them, otherwise you are a very strong person for getting through such devastation.