AN: *Hysterical screams of excitement* OHMYGOSH you guys, it took SO LONG to get here. Thank you so much to everyone who has Favorited, Followed, and sent encouraging reviews, YOU ALL HELPED ME GET HERE. If you suddenly feel warm and fuzzy, fear not!- you are simply being enveloped in the force of my love. Anywho! Plenty of story left to go, so let's get to it!

Rated: ...*cough*

Disclaimer: Still not making money, here.


It took a lot more effort than it should have to stagger through her own front door, but Hawke was completely exhausted. There wasn't a single muscle in her body that didn't ache, she felt like she was wearing more bruises than clothes, and to top things off, there was an acrid coppery taste lingering in the back of her mouth. Maker, she hated blood mages, adorable Dalish companions notwithstanding, and Hadriana had to have been one of the nastiest, most persistent, conniving wenches she ever had the misfortune of meeting. She really couldn't muster much sorrow over the woman's rather sudden and gruesome demise.

What happened afterwards however, weighed more heavily on her heart. Hawke was used to Fenris' frequent ire towards magic users in general, and she knew that sometimes he couldn't help but lash out, and that he did it to protect himself more than anything…. But he'd never so blatantly accused her of being the same as the people that had made his life a living hell.

"-may she rot, and all mages with her!" The elf growled, a tremor running through his smooth deep tones.

"All mages, Fenris?" Hawke asked softly, trying not to pin too much hope on those long looks he gave her occasionally when they read together.

"Did I stutter?" he snapped.

"No… I suppose you didn't," she answered faintly, hating how defeated her voice sounded. "I was just kind of hoping that you had forgotten who you were talking to."

"I have not," he assured her coldly. "There is always some reason, some excuse, for mages to do this. What does magic touch that it does not spoil?"

Raen felt as if he had slapped her.

"Yes, I suppose I can see how watching your home get destroyed, or seeing most of your family members die one by one in a variety of awful ways might make a person forget everything they've ever been taught to believe in and toss it in a pit to become a demon's puppet. Perhaps I should spare myself the trouble of waiting to see what will push me over the edge and sign up with one now? Apparently, it's going to happen anyway, right? I just haven't found my excuse yet," the dark-haired mage commented bitterly.

"Forget him, Hawke," Anders cut in harshly. "The only wounds he feels are his own."

"I…need to get out of here…" the elf mumbled, something close to remorse creeping across his face as he ducked his head to hide behind the white fringe of his bangs. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked away, and for once in her life, Hawke had no idea what to say; she was too panicked by the sudden realization that she might never see him again.

Which was why she was perfectly dumbfounded to find that very elf sitting in her foyer, looking more nervous than Porthos when he knew he'd done something naughty. She stood there for a moment, blinking in confusion, before plunging into what she knew was going to be a painfully awkward conversation.

"Fenris?" she asked, causing him to jump to his feet.

"Hawke, I-" he began stiffly, not meeting her eyes, "I've been thinking about what happened with Hadriana." He shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. "I took out my anger on you, undeservedly so. I was...not myself. I'm sorry. I know that there are points on which our opinions…differ, but you are no Magister."

"With Carver gone, there's no one around to remind me every day what a horrible person I am for being born with magic." She shrugged half-heartedly. "I kind of miss it."

He flinched at the obvious jab.

"I can go, if you wish…you need not see me again." He sounded completely miserable, and despite her best efforts, Hawke was simply powerless every time he blinked up at her with those wounded green eyes. 'Stupid elves and their pretty eyes.'

"I just want to understand what happened today, Fenris." She sighed, removing her staff and travel pack and setting them down near the wall. "I don't think that's too much to ask."

"When I was still a slave, Hadriana was a torment," he began, spitting out the woman's name like he'd eaten something rotten. "She would ridicule me, deny my meals, hound my sleep…because of her status, I was powerless to respond, and she knew it. The thought of her slipping through my grasp now…. I couldn't let her go…I wanted to, but I couldn't."

"It didn't really seem like you wanted to," Hawke commented dryly, folding her arms across her chest.

"And what would you have me do?" Fenris seethed. "Hadriana came after me! I've never had the option to simply walk away. Am I supposed to forgive, no matter how many times they hunt me down? Am I supposed to forget all things they've done to me?"

"Hatred is all you have, because it is all you let yourself have," she told him flatly. "Can't you see how, even now, everything you say or do is directly related to them? How every mistake you make is Danarius' fault? Where do you begin to take responsibility for your own life? You're still letting him control you, and…it's eating you up, Fenris."

"Shut up!" he all but howled at her. "You know nothing of being a slave! It's a sickness, this hate, this dark growth inside me that I can't ever get rid of, and they put it there!" He glared at her for a moment before deflating. "This... isn't why I came here."

Raen felt a surge of guilt as he slumped his shoulders and turned to leave. This time, it wasn't some crazy Imperial blood mage that had hurt him, it was her.

"Wait, Fenris, I didn't mean to-" she began, reaching out to stop him.

Her hand barely touched the scarred olive skin of his arm, but the reaction was instantaneous. The world swirled into a bright azure flash as the sharp tips of his gauntlets dug into her biceps where he had grabbed her and slammed her back against the wall, cracking her head against the stone. Hard. Her vision swam as tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but somehow all her brain registered was the inviting hint of wine on warm breath. She'd never been this close to him. The nearness of his activated lyrium markings hummed against her magic, igniting a fire along her entire body and sending her into a state of mild delirium.

Through the haze clouding her slightly rattled brain, Hawke could make out the elf's handsome features forming an expression of horror and shame as he looked at her, suddenly realizing what he had almost done. He stumbled back a half step, clearly about to make a run for it, and Raen knew she should let him- Hell, she should probably toss him out herself- seeing how the man had been mere seconds away from phasing a hand through her chest and squishing a few of her vital organs.

But he was doing that thing she hated, where he winced away from her as though expecting to be struck. Fenris was proud by nature, every line of his lean body built to stand strong in the face of his many adversities. Raen loved that about him, the stupid fearless way he charged down opponents three times his size, usually to prevent them from taking a swing at her. He was her sulky knight in snug black leathers. Seeing him like this was...heart-wrenching.

Hawke had only meant to brush his bangs away from his deep green eyes. She wanted look into them when she told him it was all right; that there was no harm done. Yet somehow lips had suddenly followed fingers and she was kissing him. Once on his cheek, smooth and taught. Once at the corner of his mouth, where it bowed into that puzzled little frown he bore so often. And finally she turned her head just so to press her lips against that gorgeous full-lipped mouth.

Raen didn't know if it had something to do with the lyrium in his skin, the magic in her blood, or simply the fact that this was Fenris, but suddenly the whole world was on fire. The tender regard they had built up together over three years of hard-earned friendship was suddenly exploding with a passion that she never would have dreamed of. Raen had always thought the white haired elf was handsome, there was no denying that, but this was so much more than attraction. She was drowning. She was soaring. She was so far gone.

Hawke took the fact that he hadn't killed her yet as a very good sign. Her elven friend could be very vocal and...violent, when people invaded his personal space. Thus far, he hadn't expressed an opinion either way, opting to simply stand still and let her ravish him. For her part, she would have been perfectly content to stay there for eons, doing nothing except kissing him. He smelled like leather and wood smoke, like the oil he used to tend his sword and armor, and like lyrium. But most of all he just smelled like Fenris, and she nuzzled her nose under his jaw as she turned them around, eager to memorize that scent, to know all of him.

Raen pushed him lightly back into the wall she had just vacated, making him grunt in surprise. She stole the sound from his mouth, eagerly sealing it with her own again. His lips opened for her, startled, and she began the task of mapping the warm cavern of his mouth with her tongue enthusiastically. She could give him this, she could prove that mages were merely people, and that one of them in particular was more than willing to show him kindness, affection...and anything else he might need of her. She rubbed her hips against his suggestively, and slowly slid one leg between his, hoping to elicit a bit more of a reaction on his end.

As wordlessly requested, her actions caused him to raise his arms and place his hands against her back, holding her in a loose embrace. His hands were so light against her that she could barely feel the talons of his gauntlets through the fabric of her jerkin, and Andraste preserve her, but they were trembling. Hawke froze, struck with the realization that she might have made a grievous miscalculation of what was going on here.

Raen pulled back just far enough to make out his expression. The general impression she got from the elf was 'dazed'. Those wide forest eyes of his were glazed and unfocused, his soft lips were parted slightly, and his dark brows were hovering up under the white fringe of his hair. His gaze caught hers, and something that looked a lot like blind terror flashed across his face.

"Fenris?" she asked quietly, taking a step away to give him space. He instantly dropped his hands from her waist.

"H-hawke," he managed to rasp out in reply. He fidgeted nervously with the hem of his tunic and refused to meet her eyes for more than an instant.

"You..." She inhaled sharply through her nose, accepting that she might regret these next words the rest of her life. "You're allowed to say 'no', Fenris. ...you know that, don't you?"

"I-..." The warrior squirmed in obvious discomfort. "I just...do not..." He floundered helplessly, a look of pure frustration blooming across his features.

"I'm...sorry," the apostate whispered. She hung her head and stumbled back a few more steps.

"You... you are?" the elf asked, sounding surprised and a trifle wounded. Raen nodded rapidly in furious affirmation.

"I never should have..." She sighed heavily. "Our friendship is important to me; I don't want something like this to ruin it."

He gave her a wane smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"It is important to me as well." His voice was a low rumble, gentle as a receding storm. There was such a wide range of emotions pooling in his eyes, she didn't know which to believe, but amidst them there was definitely traces of a true and warm affection that she desperately wanted to cling to. And something that seemed a lot like trust, which she craved from him even more. Because Maker save them both, Raen knew in that very instant that she was in love with the poor bastard.

She would end up falling for the man who lugged around more personal baggage than an Orlesian noble and had the most acrid hate for magic she had ever encountered. Typical. The same elf whose past had drilled his subservience to mages so completely into his brain that he couldn't even find the means to tell her to piss off when she had damn near jumped his bones in her foyer. Hawke was a bit disgusted with herself, to be honest, and she wasn't certain which of them would be in more danger if she didn't excuse herself from the current situation rather quickly.

"Then... you forgive me?" she asked thickly, more than a little worried that one of the most admirable men she'd ever met would want nothing to do with her now. Randomly assaulting someone with your mouth tended to do that to a relationship.

"If you desire forgiveness for your actions, then it is yours," he told her stiffly, every muscle in his body tense, ready for her next onslaught, no doubt. She gave him a curt nod.

"Well...good then. ...thank you," the apostate stumbled over her own tongue. "Good night, Fenris." She turned and began an awkward sort of scuttle towards the stairs that led up to her bedroom. Her face felt like it was on fire.

"Hawke," the elf blurted her name as though he had not been intending to say it. She looked over her shoulder to see him flexing the muscles of his jaw furiously, as though trying to chew up the words that wanted to escape him.

"You...did not have to stop," he told her finally, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.

"Yes, I did," Hawke said solemnly and with much more conviction than she actually felt.

She stomped up the stairs in a manner she hoped came off as regal and at least somewhat dignified. Raen closed the door to her bedroom softly behind her and slid to the floor, dejected. Her heart was beating roughly in her throat, exulting over the kiss and furious at the way it had happened. She had taken what she wanted from him, just like every other mage he'd known, just like that bitch he'd killed this afternoon. She heard her front door slam as Fenris left, possibly forever. She buried her face in her hands. She was no better than a Magister.


AN: *ducks behind the couch* Sooooooorrrrryyyyyy...*whimper* Good things. More of them. I promise. All in the next chapter. I have a cunning plan.