Fall (part 3)
"You killed her?"
Fenris winced. He wasn't really expecting Bethany to be so blunt, but…well…there it was.
The elf sighed as he took another pull from the bottle of aggregio.
"I did," he replied, "Hadriana had been a torment for me. My every memory of her was one of torment. When…when I saw what she had done to the slaves that she had brought with her, when she used blood magic to try and protect herself from me…I…I…"
He growled low in the back of his throat, the sound likely would have scared a darkspawn had they heard it.
Bethany simply sat there, watching him with glassy honey-brown eyes.
"She offered me information for her life, news about my…my sister. I accepted her offer, only to still crush her heart for all that she had done."
Fenris glared down at his guest, Bethany still said nothing. She simply sat there wrapped in her black fur blanket, a nearly empty bottle of aggregio in her hands. The girl's mouth had become a grim line, but still her face remained blank.
Fenris suddenly found himself very…apprehensive.
"Do you believe I did wrong?" he asked her, "I had made a deal with Hadriana, and yet still I killed her. I lied to her, as she had lied to me many times in the past.
He shook his head, snorting like an angry stallion.
"Your sister was not pleased, what do you think of my actions?"
Bethany shifted slightly in her place by the fire; she took a small drink, likely to gather a bit of courage before she responded. Fenris readied himself for a tongue lashing.
The young warden sighed. She looked into the fire, perhaps searching for the right words.
When she finally responded, it was not quite what he expected.
"I love Mari," she began, "But that does not mean that she is correct all the time. In fact, in the last year, I've come to realize that my sister…well…she…she can at times be very…naïve. Good and evil, right and wrong, it is rarely so easily quantified and measured."
Bethany shook her head.
"I have seen men that most would call evil, men guilty of horrible acts, die bravely defending their fellow wardens, giving their lives to save their friends without a word of complaint. I've also seen good men, righteous men run from their duty. They were afraid to make the sacrifice that they were called upon to perform. They ran and…"
The girl shivered, she looked away from the fire, not wanting to meet his gaze.
She lowered her head in shame.
"Those of us…those of us who knew them had to do what they could not. We had to scorch our souls to make the wrong things right."
She wiped idly at her eyes, no tears fell, but even Fenris could see that it was a very near thing.
Bethany sighed again and looked him straight in the eye.
"This…this Hadriana sounds like an awful person, a person who delighted in the suffering of others, or at least thought herself above the consequences of her actions. What you did…it was not evil. Had she escaped she very well might have returned to menace you again, or to go after Mari and the others. Sometimes we are called upon to do things others would see as intolerable, so that others can stay innocent, so they do not have to perform unspeakable acts."
Bethany shrugged, and took another drink of aggregio.
"It is not about being a hero. I do not think I believe in heroes anymore. All I see here is a decent man who was forced to do an indecent thing, indecent, but necessary."
She gave him that sad smile of hers.
"Thank you for protecting our friends."
Fenris blinked, not really sure how to respond to what he had just heard.
No blame, no condemnation, no permission, just grim acceptance, it was not something he had expected of the younger Hawke. Bethany had always had such a light in her, even when she was most fearful of the Templars and the circle that had always been a threat to her.
The light had not entirely been extinguished, but it was eclipsed, the grim reality of life as a grey warden had darkened her soul, but perhaps that was the only way that she could endure her new life.
The sun had been hidden by the darkest of storm clouds, but it had not gone out, it was still there.
His mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but almost one.
She had not passed judgment, merely offered her sympathies; it was not pity, just acceptance.
That was one emotion that he could deal with.
"You're…you're welcome," he replied.
Again she smiled slightly, and returned to staring into the soft orange flames of the fire.
Something…warm stirred in the elf's breast, something that had been quiet until now. He found himself looking at the young woman before him with new eyes. This was not the viper in their midst that he had warned Hawke about years ago, nor was it simply the little sister that Hawke would have moved mountains for to protect.
Bethany was…different.
He saw the way the soft black fur clung to form, the slender neck. It had fallen down farther as the night continued, revealing more of her, the gentle swell of her chest against the yielding fabric. The way one long creamy leg caught the orange light of the fire.
Fenris looked away; at least, he tried to look away.
What he was thinking was…inappropriate, this was Hawke's little sister after all.
Then another thought hit him; hit him like a lightning bolt from the storm outside.
Hawke isn't here, is she?
The elf swallowed hard.
The storm continued to build.
IOI
The night continued as the storm continued to rage outside. The thunder and lightning began to drift apart, but still the pouring rain battered the city of chains.
Bethany Hawke shifted slightly, enjoying the warm glow of the fire on her bare skin, and the equally warm glow of the Tevinter wine as it washed over her body.
It…it had been a long time since she had let herself go, just throw away the fear and anger that were her constant companions and just enjoy the stillness of the moment.
She frowned at the empty wine bottle on her lap, her third tonight, or perhaps her fourth?
She found that she could no longer remember, and did not really want to.
The aggregio had spread a warmth from her belly from the top of her head to the tips of her wiggling toes. All heavy thoughts and stress vanished as it worked its way through her, making her feel more and more relaxed.
The shadows had become darker, more intimate. The storm outside isolated them from the normal whirl of the outside world. It was just the two of them, her and Fenris, alone in the dark of night.
She smiled more openly now.
She could think of worse companions.
She lay down near the fire, resting her head on her upturned hand, supporting herself with just her elbow. Fenris had leaned back against the old arm chair; he had joined her on the floor some time ago, the nearly empty food basket, and more than a few empty wine bottles between them.
She found herself watching her host very closely, not because she feared him, though there was still some fear there, Fenris was a dangerous man, even a fool could see that. He carried himself like a silent predator, a wolf in both name and actuality.
He had such strength, such quiet power, that quiet power made her shiver, but not with fear, no.
This...this was caused by something else entirely.
You're drunk, her conscience chided.
Probably, she thought back.
Don't even think about doing something stupid. You know where his heart truly lays.
She frowned.
Yes, she did know.
She shook her head.
Damn it!
Slowly the wine had drained her of her inhibitions, she let the fur she was wrapped in fall lower off her shoulders, pulled it up just so that he would have a clearer view of her legs.
She licked her lips.
Darren had always liked her legs; he said that there were noble women in the cities who would kill to possess such legs. Bethany had never seen the big deal herself, but then again, she had never really noticed the looks men gave her before the deep roads. Her fear of the Templars had been all consuming.
Isabela had said that she was attractive. Those men had noticed her, even if she had not noticed them. It was rare that Bethany even acknowledged the presence of the men around her. Though that handsome noble chantry brother had caught her eye, he was off limits of course, having taking vows and all, but that did not mean that she could not appreciate what she was seeing.
Fenris is off limits too, her conscience reminded her, he wants Mari and he doesn't need your problems.
Bethany sighed irritably.
Sometimes she hated her conscience.
If Fenris noticed the mental war going on inside her head he said nothing. The elf was the perfect picture of calm; he was not even looking her way now, simply staring into the fire.
She blinked as she started watching him, truly watching him.
The trousers he wore were just tight enough that she could see the hard muscle in his legs, the white shirt was a little big for him perhaps, but it was cut low in front, showing his marked neck and running down to his toned muscled chest.
Bethany shifted slightly, trying to ignore the warmth that was starting to glow low in her belly, and threatened to work its way down.
She sighed heavily.
Fenris ears twitched.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She almost cursed.
What in Andraste's name are you doing?!
Her mind worked quickly, trying to come up with the proper excuse. She hid her nervousness well; a few years in the grey wardens had taught her the value of hiding her true emotions and thoughts.
She managed a weak smile.
"Jussst thinking," she sighed.
The elf blinked, likely noticing her slightly slurred speech.
How many bottles had they gone through tonight, quite a few to be certain, she had not been keeping count. Fenris seemed sober, but she had to admit, she had never seen the elf drunk before.
Perhaps he was simply better at hiding it then most.
He raised the bottle he was holding to his lips. Bethany watched him with rapt attention, the way his neck moved as he swallowed, the way his lips embraced the mouth of that bottle.
Her cheeks turned a rosy pink, and it had nothing to do with the liquor.
The elf sighed and wiped his mouth. Outside the rain continued to fall heavily against the city. There would be no leaving tonight, even if either of them had wished to.
He turned to his guest.
"It…it is getting late," he said softly.
"Yes it is," she said with gentle smile.
"We should both try and get some rest."
She nodded in agreement, but still made no attempt to move.
They both stood there, silently watching each other, the air was thick with energy neither could truly understand but were both deeply under the sway of.
Fenris sighed.
"You…you may take the bed if you wish," he said, "It is not much, but…"
She shifted a little more, showing him a bit more leg.
"I've slept in worse places, Fenris," she cooed, "And in harsher company, this…thisss isss actually quite nice."
If he noticed what she was doing he did not show it. He did not even smile.
"The bed is…softer than it looks," he promised.
She tilted her head slightly.
"Where will you sleep?"
The elf's mouth twisted into a grim line.
"Here," he said pulling a pillow off the chair behind him.
Bethany frowned.
"I do not wish to impose."
"I've offered," He said, "I would not have done so if I minded."
She blinked looking between the bed behind them, and the elf's fierce green eyes, their power was only slightly affected by the wine.
The gaze made her feel nervous, like a prey animal cornered by a hunter…
…A hunter willing to make the kill.
All he had to do was move forward now, forward…
…and claim his prize.
He reached out, she waited for his hands to touch her, but instead he pointed to the bed.
"Please," he said softly, "I insist."
Bethany sighed.
Perhaps it was for the best.
This…this could only end badly.
She tried to stand up, but the world tilted around her, she started to stumble and fall…
Fenris was there, he was as quick as a snake, quicker even.
He held her in his arms, holding her up.
Brown eyes stared into green, drowning in those to deep green pools.
Bethany swallowed hard, her throat suddenly felt very dry.
She could feel his warm breath on her face, smell the Tevinter wine there. They were almost nose to nose now.
She shuddered in sweet surrender.
Fenris picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her to the bed. She…she had not realize how strong he was, so strong and so quick.
She laid her head against his shoulder.
"I think I'm a little drunk," she almost giggled.
He snorted.
"To say the least," he replied.
He lay her down on the bed, letting her slip out of his strong arms.
She could not deny that she felt at least a tiny flash of disappointment as he stepped away.
She had not come here for this, but seeing him stepping back towards the fire. It…it felt like rejection.
Bethany hated that feeling.
It is better this way.
Is it?
He wants Mari not you.
She sighed heavily.
You're drunk.
Let it go.
She almost growled.
Shit.
She moved just enough so that she could pull the covers back. Her head buzzing pleasantly from the wine, all but blocking out the constant hum of the taint, she pushed the pillow up to her head, and did her best to try and get comfortable.
It was not as hard as she had thought.
Fenris had not lied; the mattress was both soft and dry, feather perhaps, as were the pillows.
She let her head sink down into the softness; the wine began to drain her strength, carrying her off like she was floating on white puffy clouds.
She threw away the fur blanket, letting it puddle on the floor next to the bed as she wrapped herself beneath the silken sheets. If Fenris even noticed he revealed nothing. No, only words passed between them. Kind words perhaps, but only words.
"Goodnight, Bethany," she heard the elf growl.
She sighed.
"Night," she murmured.
Not good night though, had the elf been willing, it could have been very good, for both of them, but now…now…
Don't even go there.
"Hush," she almost whimpered.
It's better this way.
Right.
It is better.
Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance.
The true storm was still coming.
It was almost there.