Promises: Chapter Twenty-Seven

Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all assorted characters/places/etc belong to Bioware, not me.


Fenris strode angrily up the stairs and out on deck. His fierce demeanor was such that no one bothered him as he made his way to the bow of the ship. Even now he couldn't help but feel dirty when he thought of what Isabela had said.

'Hawke's elf' she had called him, and the mere idea of belonging to another mage made him burn. No, it was more than that. He belonged to no one, now that he was free and he had paid a high price for such freedom. To have his struggles dismissed so easily, to hear someone refer to him as belonging to someone else…it was not something he could bear.

What was worse than that, however, was he could understand why someone might think he belonged to Hawke. Certainly the devotion he had shown when taking care of his mageling while she was sick was akin to that of a slave serving his master. He had done everything for Hawke back then, from fetching her meals to helping her to the privy, looking after her with a gentleness that would not have been out of place with a house slave in Tevinter. He hadn't even realized until now that he had acted that way.

And his behavior went even further. It had become second nature for him to watch out for his mageling, to keep her safe. He had fallen into the habit of putting himself in between her and any potential source of danger, like any decent bodyguard would. The cold clammy hands of fear gripped him as he wondered just how free he actually was. He had returned to his old role without even thinking, as though he was still bound by the chains of his old life.

Fenris didn't even want to linger over the fact that he had done all of this for another mage. Not that Hawke was anything like the mages of the Imperium. Her abhorrence of blood magic was the clearest difference between the mageling and the magisters he had known. Every magister eagerly embraced the power that blood magic gave them as no magister would be able to keep his position if he did not exploit every single advantage available. As for the demons a magister had to bargain with to learn illicit spells…well that was simply another advantage that a magister could wield against his peers.

There was more though. Hawke was different from the mages of the Imperium not just because of her steadfast refusal to participate in such dark arts, but also because of her sunny and bright demeanor. The mageling was always laughing, and Maker knew that she flashed that brilliant smile of hers at him more times each day than was good for his peace of mind. In Tevinter, he was used to mages snarling and sneering at him. His former master, Danarius, was an exception to that rule but not a good one. He shuddered as he recalled the sort of activities that would follow when Danarius was in a good mood.

It had been even worse, however, when his former master was feeling poorly. Then Danarius would find fault with every single thing he did, and more often than not, punish him accordingly. Sometimes Danarius would delay his punishment, leaving Fenris to live in fear, not knowing when he would be subjected to the whip or worse. He clenched his jaw as he remembered how happy he had been to serve at Danarius' feet despite the daily terrors to which he was subjected.

After he had escaped, it had been easy for him to swear that he would never serve a mage like he did his former master ever again. It was harder apparently for him to actually carry such a thought out though if the way he looked after Hawke was anything to go by. However, to her credit, Hawke had never asked for anything like that from him. The only thing she had ever requested from him was merely his company, which went to prove that his mageling was an odd duck.

Just then, as though his thoughts had somehow summoned her, Fenris heard the sound of Hawke shuffling up behind him. He didn't turn to greet her. Instead he struggled to regain control over his temper. He was not angry with his mageling, and he didn't want to snap at her. Hawke was not at fault here. Indeed she was blameless. She shouldn't be held accountable for the misperceptions of a foolish pirate, and so he would have to do his best to rein his anger in.

"Hello Fenris," Hawke said hesitantly. "You…um left without your winnings so I collected them for you."

It was a nice, relatively safe topic for Hawke to open with. Undoubtedly she was trying to test the waters with him. Fenris closed his eyes and sighed. While he wasn't upset with Hawke, he didn't particularly feel like talking at the moment, not even with her. "Thank you," he replied simply, hoping that she would get the hint.

His hope faltered when Hawke took that response as encouragement to take up a spot beside him near the rail. "So I…um…took the liberty of asking Isabela how much longer it'll take to get to Wycombe," she said. The mageling had her eyes trained on the ground, and she shifted her weight back and forth nervously. "Turns out that the ship has been making good time, and so we should make port in less than a week."

"That is good news," Fenris said whole-heartedly. He hated this blasted boat for its wretched smell and even worse company. If he had to put up with the lady pirate's company for too much longer…well that didn't bear thinking.

Though he wasn't looking at her, he could feel his mageling perk up. "I thought you might feel that way," she stated. "Truth is, I feel the same. I'm getting awfully tired of being on a boat in the middle of the sea. And to think—I once thought it would be a grand adventure to travel on a real ship." She shook her head ruefully and then looked at him sideways. "What a foolish notion that was. The reality isn't romantic at all. Traveling on a small Fereldan ship versus traveling by a grander ship…either way, it's not my thing."

Fenris snorted to himself. He had no idea why his mageling might think that a boat ride might be romantic, but at least she had learned something from their time on the ship. He didn't think it likely that they would ever set foot on a ship ever again, no matter how desperate they might be to escape a particular place.

"So given that we'll be safe and sound on dry land again in the none-too-distant future…I was thinking that perhaps maybe we should decide on where to head to next," Hawke continued. "Wycombe is properly in the Free Marches. I know we talked about traveling in the general direction of Kirkwall but I…well maybe you don't want to anymore?"

"I certainly have no wish to remain on this ship a second longer than strictly necessary," he replied sharply. Frankly Fenris didn't care at the moment where they went so long as they put the sea and this ill-fated trip behind them. He decided to say as much to his mageling. "As for where to head next…I have no preference. Moving south would take me further away from Tevinter, and so that is as good a direction as any."

"I see," Hawke replied softly. Her voice caught on her next words. That didn't sound good, and he was struck with the sudden impression that his mageling was near tears. Filled with worry for her, Fenris looked over at her but her eyes were downcast. Before he could ask her what was wrong, however, she spoke up once more.

"I…well…I don't suppose you…you want me to come along," she mumbled. She brought her head up suddenly, her large eyes shimmering with tears and emotions. "I mean, I have no right to expect… to expect anything from you. Despite what Isabela said, I know full well that you're not my elf or anyone else's elf. So if you want to leave me behind…I…I get it, you don't want a mage following you for one and I've been such a burden and all but I'd wish you'd reconsider because it would be awfully…lonely, don't you think?"

Fenris stared at his mageling for a long moment, utterly aghast that she could think that he would ever leave her behind. "Don't be ridiculous," he said without thinking, without taking the time to select his words. "I would never leave you behind. I can't imagine being without you."

"Really?" she asked, looking up at him hopefully. "Even though I'm a mage?"

The threat of tears from Hawke had not completely abated, and he could tell his mageling needed further assurance. He silently cursed himself for letting such doubts arise in her. Despite the rage he felt towards the mere thought of being considered the property of another mage, the truth was he had no intention of ever leaving her—or letting her leave for that matter. Though she had a knack for finding trouble, she also had a way with people and was able to deal with them far better than he ever could. Fenris had no doubt that his journey would have been much more difficult without his mageling acting as a buffer between him and the world. Besides his mageling was right. He would be desperately lonely without his Hawke; he didn't think he could properly live without her by his side.

"Yes, you're a mage, and I've reason not to be fond of mages in general," Fenris told the mageling. "But you're not like any other mage I met." He smiled wistfully. "That much was made clear when we first met. Even then it was immediately apparent that the mageling before me was different from the magisters that rule the Imperium," he explained.

Hawke blinked up at him. "Mageling?" she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"Yes, because you're innocent and uncorrupted by the thirst for power, unlike all the other mages I have encountered," he said. It was true that Hawke was special that way. If she hadn't been so adamantly set against blood magic and its perils, he would not have ever let her stay by his side for so long.

That was another difference, one that hadn't occurred to him before, between his relationship with Hawke and that with his former master. When he was a slave, he had no choice to serve. It was simply his lot in life to protect Danarius from harm, and he had no say in the matter.

With Hawke, however, there were no similar chains binding him. True, he wasn't sure how much was habit when it came to defending her in battle, but there was nothing stopping him from leaving her if he wanted. Hawke had recognized that much herself when she asked if he wanted to part ways.

The fact that he had no intention of doing so…well that was his choice as a free man, not a slave. He liked traveling with Hawke. She was a thoughtful companion and the concern she showed time and again for his comfort was genuine. More than that, he liked Hawke. But no, saying that he merely liked Hawke wasn't being entirely honest. He admired her certainly. Though he could not profess to understand her moral code, he knew her adherence to it helped her resist the temptations that all mages were subjected to. And as for her actual person…Fenris was suddenly glad that it was dark out on deck for the lack of light hid his blush. He had never thought it possible to feel about a mage the way he did about Hawke, but then Hawke was easy to love.

Fenris coughed nervously. He needed to banish such thoughts from his mind if he was ever going to get some sleep that night. "I think it is high time that we retire for the evening," he told his mageling. "Though it is boring on this ship, we had better get what rest we can. We're going to need it no matter where we decide to go after we make port."

"That's a…good idea," Hawke muttered to herself. Fenris raised an eyebrow. His mageling seemed slightly out of sorts. He had thought that he had laid her fears to rest, but perhaps he had been unsuccessful in that endeavor.

"Is something wrong?" he asked her. "If you're afraid that I'll leave you—"

"No, I'm not," Hawke said quickly with a shake of her head. "I'm just tired, that's all. I'm glad, really, knowing that whatever happens next we'll still be together."

Though it still seemed as though something was troubling his mageling, Fenris let that pass. If she needed further reassurance in the morning, after a good night's sleep, then he would provide it. For now, however, it was high time for them to make their way back to their cabin and into their respective beds.


The rest of their sea journey was uneventful, something for which Fenris was grateful for. Surprisingly enough, Isabela did not approach either of them any further. When Fenris mentioned to his mageling that he thought Isabela would have tried again, Hawke hung her head and admitted that she might have had words with the lady pirate.

"Words?" he repeated, lifting up an eyebrow. "Was that wise?"

"Probably not, seeing how she's the captain and all. But she overstepped certain bounds and I found it necessary to call her out on it," Hawke replied. "I might have…um…well I guess I did rather threaten to incinerate a chest of her favorite…let's call them toys, shall we?"

Fenris blinked. Clearly it had been a mistake for him to leave his mageling alone with the lady raider, no matter how angry he had been. "And she didn't gut you?"

Hawke flashed a sly smile at him. "No. I doubt that thought even crossed her mind. I can be forceful sometimes, if I'm driven to it. Suffice it to say, I don't think we have to worry about her making any more unwelcome advances."

"That is a relief," Fenris replied. He noted that his mageling was regarding him carefully as though gauging his reaction, although he did not know why. There were times, like this one, when he felt that he did not understand the sort of thoughts that ran through his mageling's head at all.

The two of them still went out on deck on each day, with neither needing prodding from the ship's cook or anyone else to get their daily dose of sun. Nights wound up being the worst as there was nothing to do. Hawke would often chatter aimlessly until she grew so tired that she fell asleep. That left Fenris to his own devices. He often just sat atop of his bed and watched his mageling as she slept. More than once he wondered how it would feel to sneak over to her side and steal a kiss from her while she was dozing. He never dared, however, for he feared what Hawke's reaction would be if she woke up while he was kissing her.

The ship reached the port of Wycombe five days after that eventful night in Isabela's cabin. The pirate captain was all too happy to kick them off of her ship. "And here we are at Wycombe," she announced after the ship had docked. "Which means it's time for the two of you to say your goodbyes."

"So eager to get rid of us?" Hawke asked with a quirk of her eyebrow as she hefted her pack on to her back. They had already readied their packs the night before and were more than ready to leave.

"Why yes. It's nothing personal, kitten, but the sooner I get rid of my current cargo, the sooner I can start on my next job," was Isabela's answer.

"I see. And here I thought you'd enjoy the comforts of land for a few days first," the mageling replied.

Isabela snorted. "I wish. I could use a bit of…release. Unfortunately that's not an option for me this time around. I've already a job lined up, you see, and the man I'm working for isn't exactly the patient type." Her eyes narrowed, and she addressed her next words to Fenris. "He's also the unsavory sort so I would advise the two of you leave before he gets here."

Fenris grimaced. If the lady pirate considered her next business sort to be unsavory, then the man must be really bad indeed. So he ushered his mageling off of the ship—not that Hawke needed much prodding—and hurried them away from the docks, claiming that he was sick from always smelling the sea.

"But there are some ships from Ferelden!" Hawke protested.

Fenris checked a sigh. "We can come back tomorrow and see if there's anyone who has news of your home," he told her. "For now, I would appreciate it if we could find an inn that is a bit further away from the docks and their stench."

"All right. Maybe we can get a nicer inn this time too? Like the one in Antiva that Zev took us to, where we had an entire suite to ourselves."

He wanted to tell his mageling no. Though they could clearly afford such a place, he didn't want to spend coin unnecessarily and also he wanted to keep a low profile within the city. However, Fenris found he couldn't refuse his mageling when she was smiling at him like that.

Fenris allowed himself a small groan before agreeing to the mageling's request. Perhaps a suite would be a good idea. If nothing else, they would sleep in separate rooms for once which could prove to be a blessing. It was getting harder and harder for him to ignore how tempting his mageling was. It went against all of his instincts, but that memory he had when he had to carry her to their room—her skin so soft and warm against him, causing his lyrium brands to hum pleasantly—he wanted to touch her again, to prove that feeling wasn't a fluke.

Such notions were foolish, however, and he should know better than to even consider them. Clearly what he needed was to establish some distance between himself and his mageling. The only problem with that idea was that Fenris was all too aware of the fact that he couldn't bear to be parted from her. Hawke had become the most important person in his life, and he was going to have to learn how to live with that.


Author's note: Much thanks to everyone who reviewed. It's sad perhaps but reviews help keep me going when I'm up late at night writing.