FENRIS
Moonlight still filters in through the nearby windows the next I wake.
Serena lies passed out on the mattress beside me, curled up close to my side. I stare at her in a trance. A part of me still in disbelief that this is real. That what happened earlier was not just a dream.
But then, I hear movement on the other side of the room. And my daze is gone.
I peer over my shoulder with a jolt. Zevran's enjoying his drink over by the unlit fireplace again, a bottle of agreggio resting on the bench beside him.
"Why are you up?" I groan, forcing myself to sit up.
Every muscle of mine aches in protest. An unanticipated but satisfying consequence from our prolonged activities.
The shirtless assassin turns towards me and flashes me a wicked smile. "Oh, I could go all night," he says with a confident leer. "But I will not subject you to witnessing my prowess this first time. I think she's had quite enough for the moment."
He winks at me. And as much as I want to roll my eyes at his shameless words and actions, I'm going to have to agree.
We did not go easy on Serena.
But I suppose that is to be expected after years of forced suppression, on all fronts.
In truth, I would continue, even now, given the chance. But she needs rest. And I need some time to process a few things on my own as well.
"Tell me, what is on your mind, my friend?"
Zevran approaches, raising one curious eyebrow.
"You simply seem so . . . unhappy. I thought you would be ecstatic by this progression, no?"
"I would have thought so." I lower my gaze. "I should be dancing for joy, but I'm not."
I hesitate, uncertain how to proceed, to explain my reasoning why.
For it is not as though I am unhappy by the progression itself. What happened here . . . it is far better than anything I could have dreamed. More than I could have ever hoped for or imagined.
However . . .
"When we were . . . together . . . I began to remember. My life before. Just flashes," I admit. "I've never remembered anything from before the ritual. But there were . . . faces. Words. For just a moment, I could recall all of it. And then it slipped away."
I sigh and clench my fists. Frustration and contentment eating away at me, battling for supremacy inside my head. Waging a war I fear will never end.
"Hm. I see." Zevran passes me his goblet, and I drink from it gratefully. "Well, I cannot say I blame you for the frustration you are feeling. But what matters is the future now, yes?"
Zevran pauses and walks over to a nearby armchair. He plops onto it and, clasping his hands in front of him, scrutinizes me carefully.
"You love her, do you not?" he asks.
I tense, and just gawk at him, frozen stiff.
He smirks at me like he always does. The depth of his knowing appearing to possess no bounds. "You never said it, but actions speak louder than words, my friend. I should know."
He flashes a tender glance at Serena. The likes he seems to only reserve for when he is watching the warden.
I look at her as well. She is still snoozing soundly at my side. Completely out cold. Unaware.
I brush a stray hair out of her eyes and smile.
Hmm. An interesting thought.
. . . Perhaps it is time to move forward. To pursue something beyond the past. With her.
But where does that lead?
What does what happened here tonight mean?
"I'll admit, I always assumed you would be sticking around," Zevran says, leaning all the way back. "You and I, we are not so different after all. We are not ones to cling so tightly to convention or tradition."
"Hm. Perhaps," I concur. "But what does that mean exactly? What does this entail going forward?"
If there is to be anything going forward.
Or if this is simply the end to a dream.
The part where I, once again, wake up.
"Nothing needs to change," Zevran shrugs. "Just continue caring for her in the way you always have, and I will do the same . . . However, I must insist on a few ground rules, for serenity's sake. One: we must be mindful of each other's space with this newfound development of ours. Serena is a very independent, feisty woman, and though she does not voice it often, she can get overwhelmed quite easily. It is our job to make sure we do not contribute to that. And rule number two: it is important, in that same regard, that we both remember that we share from now on. Neither of us should interfere with the others business. In this, respect is tantamount."
His focus drifts over to Serena's sleeping form again.
"I suppose we should look into buying you a larger bed, however," he sighs. "It is a bit too snug for three at the moment."
I chuckle, the heaviness in my heart lightening at the comment, recognizing its significance. "Yes, that may be wise."
Especially if this is going to be common occurrence from now on, as his statement implies.
And if it is, so be it.
If there is a future to be had, I will walk into it gladly at her side. No matter what other conniving plans the Crow or this unforgiving world happen to throw at me.
I will gladly take them all in stride.
HAWKE
"Well, now that that's taken care of." Varric plops down in his seat next to mine. "How are you doing, Hawke?"
I glimpse up from my ale at him.
The two of us are currently relaxing in his 'palatial suite' together, after cleaning up most of Danarius's mess. No thanks to Zevran and the others sneaking off. Although, Serena and Fenris I at least granted.
"Other than being a bit worried about Fenris right now, and craving a bath, better," I answer, setting my drink down, reclining back in emphasis. "Now if only Meredith and Orsino weren't such a pain, then everything would be going swimmingly."
Varric laughs.
"Good luck with that," he says. "I doubt they'll suddenly start playing nice any time soon. Unfortunately."
I sigh.
Yeah, I thought as much, too. But a man can dream, can't he?
Varric pauses and purses his lips.
A skeptical look twinkles in his eyes.
"Are you . . . really alright, Hawke?" he asks. "With . . . you know," he waves his hand in an expectant motion. As if I'm bound to catch on.
And I do.
The two of us have only been friends for how many years now, after all?
Plus, it's not like there are too many topics to choose from. Fewer yet he'd struggle to broach without our usual company. And even less he'd refuse to even name.
"I'm fine. Really, Varric," I insist, knowing he must be worried about Zevran slinking off to no doubt meet up with Serena earlier. "These past few months have been . . . difficult. I'll give you that. But I believe this was all for the best. For now, I'm just trying to focus on moving forward, so I can try to save this city. Somebody has to."
Varric chuckles and shakes his head at that.
"You truly are the Champion Kirkwall never knew it needed. You know that, Hawke?" He sighs, sinking back deeper into his chair. and grabbing his mug. "I'm warning you, though." He points at me. "Don't get any ideas of turning yourself into a martyr. If you do, Serena or Fenris would probably find a way to bring you back, just so they can kill you themselves."
"Don't I know it!" I laugh. "But don't worry your pretty, little head, Varric. I don't plan on becoming a martyr. If I did, who would bathe Titan for Mother?"
Varric smiles faintly at the joke, then frowns. "No one plans on becoming a martyr, Hawke. Not unless they've got one twisted sense of purpose, guiding them anyways. And although I'm confident you know better than that, I've told far too many stories to know where this path of yours is headed. My only hope is that you land somewhere out on top."
"Can you imagine me doing anything less?" I tease, lifting my mug back up to my lips, and taking a sip.
"My imagination isn't the problem, Hawke," Varric scoffs. "Our enemy's is the one I'm worried about."
"Well then. I'll just have to make sure their imaginations stay just that. Imaginings," I persist and place my drink back onto the table. "Should be easy enough." I shrug. "We've taken care of enough of their problems as it is. I wonder if sending them imploring letters, asking they cease and desist, might help?"
Varric groans. "With your penmanship, that might just make things worse."
"Hey! I've got marvelous penmanship!" I snap. "And besides . . . do you think things honestly can get any worse?"
"Don't tempt fate, Hawke. Don't tempt fate."
