Chapter 21 – Fenris

Fenris was likely to regret this. He'd accepted that, like he'd accepted so many things Hawke had forced him to do over the years. However, he'd thought all that was in the past now – that after her lover turned abomination had killed hundreds of people in a crazed magic attack, he'd lost all respect for her judgment and concern for her wellbeing.

Then she'd had the audacity to have Varric write to him and request his help in defeating the magister darkspawn they'd failed to eliminate the first time, and he realized with great distaste that his feelings for her remained unchanged. And for that reason, he wouldn't, couldn't refuse her his aid.

Fenris had been in Nevarra for the past year hunting down Tevinter slavers, but Varric had kept a close eye on him, always ensuring an agent was in reach to deliver or receive any messages between the two. It had irritated Fenris at first because he knew why the dwarf was going to so much trouble – there was only one person for whom he showed that much consideration – Hawke. And there had been questions in some of the dwarf's letters that burned with her voice, wondering about the food and Fenris' sleeping habits and the quality of Nevarran cloth and if he was lonely. Those always made him ache with nostalgia. He was lonely, and he missed their friendship. But he also deeply resented her for putting the distance that currently existed between them, for choosing the abomination over all of her other friends and family, for letting their city fall into ruin for him.

Fenris despised what she'd done. He could hardly look at her during and after the battle with Meredith. He wasn't sure he'd be able to look at her now…

But he went anyway. He travelled for long weeks down through Nevarra and across the plains of Orlais, he followed the map Varric had sent to the Inquisition's forward camp, then followed a soldier's instructions to the battlefield. He found Kirkwall's former Knight-Captain, Cullen Rutherford, managing the siege near the keep's gates and approached him uncertainly. Cullen looked much changed from the man he'd known in Kirkwall – far broader, with a sharp, bright look in his eyes that suggested a clear and unburdened mind, despite the current circumstances. The Commander made his own assessment of Fenris, likely noticing that he'd grown his white blonde hair out, now tying it behind his head with a red cord, but the casual scowl the elf kept on his face remained the same.

"Fenris? What are you doing here? Did Hawke send for you?" Cullen's voice was clipped and tight – he didn't have the time for this.

"Yes, where—"

An ominous crash and the roar of a rather large sounding dragon reverberated through the keep and Cullen's eyes widened with concern. Fenris turned from him, no longer requiring his help. He now knew exactly where Hawke was. He'd forgotten momentarily that all he'd ever needed to do was find the epicenter of a disaster, the place where the most trouble was occurring, and she'd be there.

He set off running, hearing Cullen's frustrated shouts behind him, quickly instructing his second-in-command. The heavy boot falls behind him alerted Fenris that Cullen was following him, likely having realized the portion of the battle that most needed his tactical mind was no longer by the gates.

They were stymied several times by groups of demons and dead-eyed Warden mages. Fenris recognized the look from the insane Carta dwarves he'd encountered with Hawke so many years ago, and cut them down, knowing nothing could be done at this stage. Of the resistance they encountered, it seemed surprisingly little to Fenris for a keep known to be housing a veritable army of demons, and he wondered if they were concentrated in the center of the chaos. It didn't escape him that this likely meant he'd need to fight through a sea of enemies to get to Hawke.

At his shoulder, Cullen was growling a chorus of admonishments and curses under his breath, evidently as frustrated with someone's headstrong stupidity as Fenris was. He doubted the human was referring to Hawke, unless they'd grown much closer in the time since Fenris had last seen them, but it was strangely heartening to know that the man shared his feelings nonetheless. Fenris knew from experience how maddening it was being close to someone who insisted on throwing themselves into danger at every turn.

They followed the sound of massive wings to a central courtyard, stopping dead at the scene. The area was swarming with Wardens and demons fighting one another, the Inquisition soldiers hanging back around the edges of the fray, clearly not knowing if the Wardens who still had their minds deserved their support or not. A massive green gash, sputtering energy, rose up from the center of the chaos and Fenris realized this must be one of the rifts he'd been hearing so much about.

It only took a few moments of scanning the area to ascertain that Hawke was nowhere to be found, and, at another roar from the dragon, somewhere to the upper left of his current location, Fenris began to make his way around the edges of the fray, heading for the stairs behind the stone dais. Cullen was hot on his heels, taking the opportunity to order the pockets of Inquisition troops to assist the deserting Wardens in defeating the demons, knowing they'd be in far more peril if the demons prevailed.

Charging ahead, Fenris felt unfamiliar nerves jittering through his system – they were getting close. He was going to see her again. Angrily, he tamped these thoughts down, reminding himself of the abomination, reminding himself of the way she'd cried when she killed him.

Suddenly, they burst through an archway and were standing on a wall overlooking a wider, stone platform that hung over the edge of the abyss Adamant was built on. A cluster of figures stood, trapped, with their backs to the ledge, by a hulking, ferocious looking dragon. The one they'd faced in the mines was nothing compared to the monstrous bulk and keen, cruel intelligence of the black, winged lizard currently bearing down on the two people he'd come to see.

Pulling his greatsword from his back, Fenris took a few steps back, preparing to launch himself onto the beast's back and hopefully strike a killing blow before it mauled him. But just as he was beginning to sprint for the ledge, a blast of magic echoed through the air and the dragon careened over his companions, landing hard on the battlements behind them. Cullen caught Fenris' forearm, yanking him back from the edge sharply as the whole structure shook. A sickening, rumbling series of cracks began to split the air and the stone around their companions, and the two men watched in mute horror as the ground gave way and the party fell.

Fenris didn't hear the sharp crackle of energy as the rift opened up beneath them – he was too busy shouting Hawke's name – but he did see the green flash arcing up through the space where they had fallen. He turned his desperate and confused gaze to Cullen, who's expression looked much the same.

"What was that light?" His baritone voice was half-choked with exertion and emotion.

Cullen shook his head. "The Inquisitor's mark…could she have…" The man's eyes held no confidence when he finally answered. "I think they might be in the Fade."

"The Grey Wardens caused this," Stroud insisted. "A Warden must—"

Hawke cut him off, reiterating that Corypheus was her responsibility, and Tara found herself caught between two comrades and a giant fear demon.

Tara knew that she couldn't stay – however much she'd like to sacrifice herself to save her people, she knew now that the mark on her hand was essential to stopping Corypheus, that forfeiting her life might mean the downfall of the entire world to a magister monster. And Tara would never ask anyone else to give their life to save hers, but Hawke and Stroud had volunteered, looking to her to make the call, to choose whose life was needed less.

Cassandra was holding Varric back, as he was practically rabid at the idea of his closest friend remaining behind to save all their lives. Hawke shot him a sheepish look, but the hopeful gleam in her eyes at the promise of an end in sight disturbed Tara deeply. Stroud merely looked as if he wished to atone, as somber as ever.

Remembering their earlier brush with her envy demon, Tara turned pleading eyes to Solas, knowing that he was their only hope of all getting out of here. He immediately read the question in her face, and shook his head almost imperceptibly. He wouldn't or couldn't help.

It was a painfully obvious choice after that.

Who did the Inquisition need less? A senior Warden who had stood up to his now decimated order or the Champion of Kirkwall? Either would be helpful of course, but Tara knew now how powerful a symbol could be, and the Champion, however hollow she was at this point, was still a title that held sway and rallied hearts. And Tara had read enough about Grey Wardens to know that the taint was a death sentence – the Calling came for them all eventually – and Stroud wasn't young anymore. He likely didn't have many years left before he made his journey to the Deep Roads. His life was coming to a close, whether Tara sacrificed him or not, but Hawke's didn't have to be. Hawke could still rebuild herself.

"You're right, Stroud," Tara said at last. "And you will be remembered as a hero."

Fenris and Cullen had returned to the central chamber, distracting themselves from their fear and grief by felling wave after wave of demons. Cullen had organized the remaining Wardens and Inquisition forces so that the main points where the demons manifested were surrounded. The monsters met a swift end when they appeared, but their numbers were relentless, and it was gradually wearing the men down.

They'd been fighting there for a little over an hour when the rift began to convulse and sputter, much more violently than when the normal demons came through. Fenris felt the energy, almost twenty feet away, sizzling against his skin causing his markings to flare, and he shouted across the fray to direct Cullen's attention to it. The Commander's face betrayed none of the hope that Fenris felt rushing through him, but Cullen quickly made his way across the battlefield, gathering men who weren't directly engaged in battle, in case a much more formidable demon was making its way to their plane.

But before Fenris and Cullen could close ranks, a roar of magic split through the noise of battle and the air around them seemed to warp as the rift expanded, admitting a slender form, haloed in green light. The woman – an elf, Fenris realized – pitched forward suddenly, falling to one knee as the green light released its hold on her. Noting the brilliant red hair and the molded leather armor, he assumed this must be Inquisitor Lavellan; Varric's description had been as accurate as ever.

Panting with exertion, the Inquisitor turned over her shoulder to look back at the rift, still shuddering wildly. Several more figures began to appear, pulsing in a cloak of green energy and then staggering forward as it dissipated. Fenris recognized a severe, heavily armored woman from Varric's descriptions of Cassandra Pentaghast come through after Lavellan, then an unfamiliar elven mage, then the stocky form of his dwarven friend, then, at last, a brunette woman in battlemage armor, a red handkerchief tied at her throat – Hawke.

Fenris was floored by the amount of relief he felt upon seeing her – it had been so long. So long since he'd worried for her safety like this, so long since he went to battle for her, so long since he laid eyes on her. He'd forgotten what it felt like, what an adrenaline inducing drug her antics could be.

He hardly noticed the Inquisitor standing and slamming the rift closed behind them with the glowing mark on her hand. He hardly noticed the way Cullen rushed to her side, his expression revealing far more than he intended. He hardly noticed the hearty cheer that rose up from the men as the last of the demons fell and, with the hole to the Fade closed, no more rose to replace them.

Hawke's gaze had found him instantly, almost like she'd known he would be there, waiting for her. In those brief moments at the end of the battle, the green of her eyes held him captive, reminding him of home, reminding him of what he'd given up after the Chantry fell.

Then, she started forward – slowly, hesitantly, but with purpose in her steps. Fenris vaguely noted how Varric watched them with interest. Hawke stopped about a foot away from him, a look of sheer wonder overtaking her face, then gradually, giving him the opportunity to pull away, she slid her arms around his waste and rested her head on his shoulder. He expected to be uncomfortable; he'd only allowed her to get this close in his shock at seeing her again, he told himself. But, almost instinctively, his lyrium marked arms snaked around her shoulders and crushed her into his chest. Something inside whispered that he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't let her in again after last time, but there were many louder voices demanding that he get her as close as humanly possible.

The scent of her hair, barely tinged by the smell of sweat and battle, surrounded him like a well-loved cloak – familiar and warm, and he couldn't deny the rightness he felt, holding her like this. Like he'd finally come home.

He pulled away abruptly, and the absence of her weight and warmth was palpable, but necessary. His emotions were going haywire – relief, belonging, rage, betrayal. He felt out of control.

"It's good to see you," she said evenly, watching him like one might watch a potentially aggressive cat while trying to pet it.

He snorted derisively. Always a good start. "You would have seen me sooner if you hadn't been foolish enough to get yourself cornered by a dragon."

The corners of her mouth twitched. "Perhaps I wouldn't have gotten myself cornered if you hadn't been late."

He shook his head, scowling to hide the unexpected surge of mirth at bantering with her again. He'd missed this. "So you're saying—" he crossed his arms, sinking into a hip "—that you needed me to complete a battle effectively? Typical."

A new voice cut in. "Fenris? I've heard a lot about you. I'm—"

"The Inquisitor," Fenris finished with a curt nod.

"Taranari," she corrected with a smile, offering a gloved hand for him to shake. He took it amicably enough, but his eyes remained hard when they met hers. She didn't falter, meeting his glower with a pleasant indifference, apparently completely unphased. He could see why Varric liked her.

"I heard from Commander Cullen that you assisted our troops in holding this position. You have my gratitude," she said warmly, releasing his hand. There was just a touch of steel in her voice, just enough to make it clear he was to graciously accept the praise and allow them to move on.

He nodded, shooting a side glance at Hawke. She was smiling pointedly at Varric, her eyes darting in the direction of the Commander, who seemed in the process of organizing the collection of the wounded and dead. The Inquisition mages had already started to set up a makeshift infirmary there in the central chamber, which was probably the most verifiably safe place within the fortress.

"Hawke sent for you, I presume?" the Inquisitor asked, giving the other woman a look that clearly said, without telling me?

"She always does," Fenris sighed.

Hawke's face split into an unexpected grin. "Only because you always show up."

"Remind me to stop doing so."

"And let you miss all this fun?" She motioned at the surrounding, messy aftermath of the hard won battle. "Never."

Taranari gave the pair a warm and weary smile, departing to flag down a young man who was passing out water.

Hawke nudged him with her elbow, murmuring conspiratorially, "That's the woman who melted Cullen Rutherford's ice-cold heart while raising an army of the faithful. Marvelous, isn't she?" He glanced back over at the slight, red-haired elven woman, watched her take a long drink of water, before promptly gathering as many skins as she could carry and handing them around to the Wardens the Inquisition servants were ignoring.

"Shockingly, she's quite tolerable."

Hey guys!

I hope you enjoyed the appearance of an old friend! I've had designs to bring Fenris in for some time, and this seemed the perfect opportunity! Sorry there's not more Cullen and Tara in this chap. They'll be back in full force next time.

Thanks for being wonderful and reading this and shit. Follow/fav/review if it pleases you.

-Adrianne