Hightown was dark, and cold wind was snaking through the columns around the plaza. Hawke was glad Fenris' mansion wasn't far. He hadn't been sure of the wisdom of bringing Anders and Zevran – he generally doubted the wisdom of putting Anders and Fenris in the same place – but Zevran had been uncommonly firm, and Hawke appreciated how little the Antivan chose to do that. Anders appeared to be in some kind of shock, wide eyed and silent ever since Lily had dropped unconscious. Hawke decided to get him to stay at the estate that night. His trips back home to Darktown were dangerous enough without his mind firmly on other things. Zevran's response had been – odd. It initially seemed like he'd had no response at all. The differences were subtle, the slight curling and uncurling of his hands, how he uncomfortably shifted in his armor. His eyes were sharp, bleak. Hawke had the uncomfortable feeling that Zevran was not happy with the situation, and perhaps not in the way one might assume. The echoing silence inside the dark house was deceiving. Hawke had visited often enough to know the apparent emptiness was deceiving. He held up a hand to stall the others, looking up the expansive staircase. "Fenris?" He called. "I'm coming up."
There was no response as they climbed the stairs, and not for the first time, Hawke reflected that he'd meant to send Orana around for some sneaky cleaning when he knew Fenris wouldn't be around. The elf wouldn't allow favors to be done for him, but he was capable of turning a blind eye. The house was becoming decrepit, and Fenris largely ignored everything except the master bedroom that he'd claimed as his own. The glow of the fire seeped around the door frame, and Hawke stepped out of the cold dankness of the hallway and into the warmth of the room. He could hear Zevran and Anders shuffling uncomfortably behind him. He doubted either had been here before.
Fenris was slumped on the floor in front of the fire, fully armored, his blade within arms reach. He was nursing a full bottle of wine, with a pile of empty ones on their sides nearby. Hawke sighed. This wasn't going to be a particularly easy conversation. Fenris looked up, belligerent. "I don't recall inviting any of you."
Hawke folded his arms. "It's important, Fenris."
Fenris was glaring at Anders. "I'm assuming your choice of companions isn't a co-incidence."
"It's not. How much of that wine has been this evenings?"
"About half of it." Fenris' tolerance for wine was incredible. There had been murmurings that he could even drink Varric under the table. Hawke crossed the room and sat down, Zevran following him and doing likewise. Anders stayed by the doorway, grimacing as he looked around him. Fenris watched them, entirely unimpressed. "Get it over with, Hawke. There's very little you can berate me with that I haven't already said to myself."
Hawke sighed. "It's not about last night, although as a side note she's fine, undisturbed, healing well."
"As much as can be, considering." Anders muttered. Hawke shot him a dark look back over his shoulder before looking back to Fenris. "We're here because Merrill had another visitation tonight."
Fenris blinked, eyes narrowing. "The witch."
"She spoke to Lily. And touched her. She's pregnant."
Fenris sagged a little, eyes going down to the floor. "I suppose you're all here then to tell me I'm going to be a father."
"Well – yes." Hawke swallowed. "As is Zevran, and Anders."
Fenris was still for a moment, before looking up slowly. Hawke had never seen Fenris truly floored before. It would have been funny under different circumstances. The look on his face was full of dread, perplexed and had the slightest fraction of wonder in it. He looked from Anders to Zevran and back. "How?"
"Triplets."
"Is that – even possible? With different fathers?" He was looking to Anders, antagonism gone in the search for medical clarification.
Anders shrugged. "Maker knows. I've never heard of a case where a woman had twins or triplets and had them conceived by different men on the same night, but I can't imagine that situation crops up often."
Fenris dropped his head into his hands. "Vashevas Valass. This is – completely implausible."
Hawke nodded. "It is. I think it's important that you talk to her. All of you. We all need to throw our support behind her as much as possible. This is going to be difficult enough as it is."
Fenris made a snarling noise of dismissal. "And what makes you think she would want to see me? After last night, after I've saddled her with a child she didn't ask for or want? She'd be completely right to never want to lay eyes on me again. She'd be a fool to think otherwise." He gave a deep, slow exhalation, and only Hawke was close enough to see his fingers shaking slightly. "A child. I never thought I'd have children. I wasn't even sure I could."
Zevran spoke up, breaking his uncharacteristic silence. "It is a lot to take in, friend. Lets try and look at this a day at a time. Right now, I think it's important you come back to the house."
"No." He said immediately. "She will not want me there."
Hawke shrugged. "You'd be technically right, but only because she's refusing the see anyone. When she does decide she's ready for visitors, you need to be there. I don't think it's going to help for her to feel like you don't want anything to do with her."
Fenris ran an agitated hand through his hair. "How is she?"
"She fainted. We put her to bed, she's been refusing to talk to anyone. Crying, mostly. We let the dog in, he seems to be helping."
"It might be easier on her if she wasn't so beaten up." Anders growled. Hawke turned and glared at him. "I'm going to make you wait outside in a moment."
Zevran held up placating hands. "Gentlemen. Please. Perhaps it is time to let this rest for a moment. Hawke, why don't you go back to the estate and check on our princess? Take Anders with you, let me have a few words with Fenris."
Hawke tried to stem his immediate response, which was to distrust Zevran's motives. "I'd rather you all came back to the house with me."
Zevran gave him a steady look. "We need to talk about some things, privately. We will follow you shortly."
Fenris made a noise of dissent from the floor. "What makes you think you can speak for me, Antivan?"
"Your best interests." He responded mildly. "And if you were a touch more sober, I think you'd understand that I'm trying to help."
Hawke threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. Have your secrets. The minute she decides that she wants to see one of you, you'd better be there. Understand?"
He stood, herding Anders before him. "I'm hoping all of you can be as mature and considered about this as possible. You're all in this together. Remember that."
Anders muttered something that Hawke snapped at him over, and they moved down the stairs, leaving Zevran and Fenris in the warm circle of the fire.
Zevran shifted a little closer, folding his legs under him. "You're taking this well, friend."
Fenris was staring into the fire, eyes full of fear and anger. "This – isn't right. None of it. She shouldn't have to do this. We shouldn't." He thrust the wine bottle at Zevran, who took it off him, swigging at it and handing it back. Fenris's marks were pulsing softly, and not for the first time, Zevran wondered if it was strain or emotion that made them throb like that. "It is unfortunate. In time, perhaps, you will start to think about what it might be like to have a son. Or daughter." He shrugged. "Perhaps it will be welcome."
Fenris made a disconsolate noise. "I have no home and no past and I did unspeakable things to the child's mother. This is not a good start."
"Let's address that." Zevran said firmly. "Because I believe you are laboring under a misconception."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're acting as if you raped her."
Fenris flinched. "She didn't want to do it. I hurt her. I don't know how much clearer it can be."
Zevran shook his head. "That's not how this works, friend. Why don't you tell me what happened?"
Fenris glared at him. "That's my business."
Zevran made a noise of impatience. "I am trying to help you. You don't think I might be a touch more knowledgeable in this area?"
Fenris gave him a wary look. "This is extremely personal."
"I know. Which is why I sent everyone away. We have our differences, friend, but I believe I can help you. You will need to be honest. There is absolutely nothing you could say to me that would surprise or shock me. I promise. I very much doubt that you and I are so unalike."
There was a long silence. Fenris knotted his long fingers together, looking down at the floor. "She fought me."
Zevran watched him carefully. "How do you mean?"
"How else could I mean? She tried to fight me off her. I held her down. She – bled. There was so much blood." He put a curled hand up to his forehead. "It was horrible."
Zevran considered that. "It can't have been so horrible for you. You obviously saw it through to the end."
Fenris snarled something illegible. "I'm not proud." He said stiffly. "I lost control. She was – scared. And I responded to it."
"Did she climax?" Zevran asked, bluntly.
Fenris blinked. "What?"
"You know what I refer to, yes?"
"Of course I know what you're referring to." He snapped, bristling. "I'm not a child."
"Well?"
He was silent for a long moment. "Yes." He said finally.
Zevran scratched at his jaw. "And is that when she fought you?"
"Yes." He swigged from his wine bottle. "I have gouges down the front of my shoulders."
"Most men treasure those marks." He raised an eyebrow. "Can I see?"
"Don't push it, Antivan."
Zevran sighed. "In my experience, some women fight when they hit that point. It has nothing to do with their partner and everything to do with the intensity of what they are experiencing." He looked at his nails. "If she clawed at you, Fenris, then I would take that as a credit to your ability."
The look on the younger elf's face was almost funny. "She bled." He said bluntly. "I bit her. She can't have enjoyed that."
Zevran put a hand up to his head. "If it's in the heat of the moment, pleasure and pain lie very close. For some people they are irrevocably entwined. Look. You castigate yourself for what you have done to her, when as far as I can gather, it was an evening you both enjoyed which started out a little awkward and involved some bad decisions. Yes?"
Fenris dismissed that with an irritated flick of his hand. "You aren't listening. I wanted her to fear me. I looked down at her and wanted her afraid."
"You aren't accountable for your urges, Fenris, just whether you act on them." Zevran shrugged. "Your preferences lie very close to my own. There is nothing wrong with wanting to dominate your partner. If it's consensual, it doesn't matter. It so happens our Princess appears to respond to that quite well."
"Don't call her that." He said, tersely.
"Why not?"
"It implies some kind of group ownership."
"I like to think of it as group protection. But that's not what we're talking about."
"So you're telling me there's nothing wrong with the fact I hurt her? Badly?"
"That's what I'm telling you, yes. I've made women bleed before. Not spectacularly, but – there you go. Sometimes a body just isn't ready, errors of judgment occur. And I'd imagine it would have been difficult for her to fully relax. It was an accident. She bears you no ill will." He held out his hand, and Fenris surrendered the bottle to him. "And you need to give her some credit. She's not entirely a pushover. Did she tell you when you hurt her?"
"Yes."
"Well, then."
He was agitated, shaking his head. "It's not enough. You didn't make her bleed." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm assuming."
"No, I didn't. But you went first. She was probably at her most tense and concerned before she even knew it would be you." Zevran leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I'm assuming you did all you could to set her at ease, obviously."
Fenris gave him a wary look. "I'm not going to give you details, Antivan."
Zevran sighed. "I'm just looking for a reassurance that you didn't just knock her onto her back and have your way with her. In which case, yes, you might have been somewhat to blame." Fenris was looking at him oddly. Zevran raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Fenris was thinking hard. He also looked like something might have just occurred to him. "I – I'm not sure what you mean."
Zevran made an exasperated noise. "Did you touch her? Hold her? Kiss her? This is very rudimentary, Fenris."
Fenris swallowed. "I didn't kiss her."
Zevran blinked at him. "At all?"
He was immediately defensive. "She barely knew me." He snapped. "I didn't think it was appropriate."
Zevran groaned. "Oh, for the love of –"
"What?"
He threw his hands up in the air. "No wonder she was tense. She's not a whore, Fenris."
"I know that!"
"Why wouldn't you kiss her? Didn't you want to?"
"That's irrelevant." He snapped. "We weren't lovers. We hadn't even spoken."
Zevran had a sudden headache. "That was cruel."
His shoulders hunched, and he folded his arms protectively in front of him. "I'm not proud." He repeated stiffly. "It's not a situation I knew how to behave in."
Zevran sighed, trying to think his way around this. "So you didn't go down on her? Nothing?"
Fenris swallowed. "She did. For me, I mean."
Zevran stared at him, before muttering to himself in Antivan. "You lucky bastard."
Fenris shifted his feet uncomfortably. "I didn't want her to. I thought it was demeaning. She said she thought it might help."
Zevran scratched his scalp, feeling very sorry for himself. "How was it?"
Fenris narrowed his eyes at him, then relented. "Good."
"Just good?"
"Amazing." He glared. "I'm not telling you anything else."
"You're a cruel man."
"Apparently."
"Look. This is the issue, as far as I can tell. You feel you've wronged her. I would be inclined to agree, but not in the way you feared. How will you go about addressing this? She's the mother of your child, now. She needs your support."
Fenris gave a helpless shrug. "I don't know. Apologize?" He looked sideways at Zevran. "What would you do?"
Zevran didn't have to think long. "I'd ask – very humbly – for another opportunity to prove I wasn't a selfish brute."
"No." He said immediately.
"Why not? You don't desire her?"
"That doesn't have anything to do with it. She'd be mad to let me near her again."
"It does have something to do with it. Do you want her?"
He was still for a long moment, before looking back at Zevran. "Is this a trick?" He asked stonily. "Are you going to try and kill me if I say yes? I've seen how you look at her."
"I'm after honesty. And no, I'm not going to kill you. For that, anyway. Antivans have a fairly robust view of companionship. I'm not the jealous type."
"Yes, then. I do. But I'm afraid of being with her. I'm worried about what could go wrong."
Zevran considered that, tracing the label on the wine bottle with his fingernail. "I could help you, you know." He said finally.
Fenris looked perplexed, then faintly amused. "What, you'll draw me some diagrams?"
"Ha! No, but that does sound like fun. I was – rough with Lily. In the way I suspect you wanted to be with her. I feel no guilt because I knew she responded with pleasure, we were both adults, all is well. You fear your instincts, but I think your instincts are similar to mine." He looked away, choosing his words carefully. "If she were willing – would you consent to being intimate with her if I was present?"
Fenris gave him a wide eyed look of complete disbelief. It was rather charming. "Are you joking?"
"Try to look at this without your personal preferences getting involved. I'm not going to try and interfere with you, I am very aware you don't feel that way about men. I can guide you and ensure that she isn't being hurt. It is a safeguard for her, a learning experience for both. If you would like to see how I – go about things, I'm quite comfortable with having spectators. Consider it."
Fenris was blinking rapidly, an expression of startled, belligerent confusion on his face. "How do you even know she wants anything to do with us, now? You speak like you're going back to the house and straight back to her bed."
Zevran shrugged. "Oh, she has a rather bad limp at the present time. I doubt anyone's going to be in her bed for a little while. But yes, I'm rather confident she'll have me back. I'm also rather confident she'd have you back."
"How?"
"She feels for you. Sex is obviously a big deal for her. I think she's developed some kind of attachment to all her men." Zevran stood. "Come. We'd best go back. And for the love of the Maker, Fenris, is she wants to see us tonight, kiss her hand or cheek or something. Yes?"
"You are an extremely odd man, Antivan."
"This is an interesting sentiment coming from you. Leave that bottle. Some sobriety might be wise."
