Somewhere under the ground of Val Chevin, in the unlikeliest of parties, a Fereldan and a Tevinter were sitting on the floor, laughing.
The Fereldan was all kinds of over the moon, while the Tevinter felt it was a veritable blue moon. The unrelenting claws of his brain released him suddenly, and he had no idea what to do with that freedom. He didn't know it was possible. He was actually enjoying the moment!
Of course, when that awareness crept in, it threatened to take the present away. So, Fenris resolved with his whole heart to remember this forever, and come back to it—not just when he was sad. He had made somewhat of a habit of that; going back to joyful moments with her when he was feeling like a dirty wet towel: that surprisingly not unpleasant morning in bed in the Sunken Orlesian, their little heart-to-hearts in front of fireplaces, that walk in the night at Satinalia, the first time he kissed her; and the second, and the thirteenth. Now this whole day was going in the Shaperate of his soul. He wanted to make a snowglobe out of it and have it on his nightstand.
Hawke felt the same. She wanted to remember as much as possible, so it was important that she stopped drinking.
"You know, I think I'll just have a coffee," she shouted through the music.
Fenris looked positively shocked. "Are you okay?" he said, his tone exaggerated.
"More than okay!" she said. She unbuttoned her stripy shirt and took it out of her black suspender jumpsuit, tying it around her waist. Then she rolled up the black top underneath so there was a little space for her skin to breathe. Fenris calmly watched. "Aren't you hot?" she asked him.
"So I've been told," he said arrogantly.
"Oh, and how," she agreed, standing up and holding out her hand.
He let himself get helped up, and they sort of locked eyes. She took him by his black-coated deltoids and moved a little lazily. It was nice when touch didn't hurt so bad. He thought she was really pretty. More than usual. Painfully pretty. Her features somehow fell into place and almost glowed. He put his hand on her waist. The tips of his fingers moved up unthinkingly, and her skin was hot and silky.
"So," he said cooly, "is it Dance'o'clock?"
"Come on, tell me you're not enjoying it," she said.
"I can't do such a thing," he said, smiling.
"Good," she said with a grin, moving them a little more determinedly. But not too much. The song Merlin was singing was vaguely summery, but he was getting downright philosophical. Hard to tell regret from reverie. "Isn't it better?" she asked him. "When you can make up your own dance?"
"It is," he said, taking her hand and intertwining it with his. "Feels like I should have done this much sooner."
"Everything has its time," she said with a honey tranquil smile.
Fenris laughed. "So… what? It's just that simple?"
"I don't think it's simple," she said, swaying. "I think it's really hard. We want to figure things out, and some days our world feels bigger than we can handle. Then we beat ourselves up for being behind in life. But I think it helps when you can separate from that feeling."
"What do you mean when you say separate?" he said attentively.
"I don't mean repressing or avoiding it. Feelings matter, and they only get stronger with resistance. I just mean taking one step away from the feeling. Unblending from it, if you will. Then you can sit with it. Make it your friend even."
"Like we could sit in the circle of embarrassment with Crowley?"
"Yeah, kind of like that. Then you can live a little. Live your life."
"What an interesting point." Fenris looked deep in his thoughts. "What do you do to separate then?"
She looked up, thinking, dancing. "I take some alone time and I talk to myself."
He laughed. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."
"Keep your prejudices, sire," she said, smirking. "We all talk to ourselves. Some of us are just better listeners."
"So, it's a meaningful conversation, not a distraction," he said, thinking.
"Exactly!" she said happily.
He smiled through his hair, bringing their hands closer. "So, what do you do… when your feelings for someone else become too much?"
Bye-bye happy face, hello disarmed face. She gave a little smile. Put her forehead on his and continued their dance. "I panic and act crazy, of course," she said confidently.
His forehead vibrated as he laughed a deep laugh. "I'm glad I'm not the only one," he said softly.
Perhaps with feelings for another, talking to the other was the answer. Ah, hindsight.
After all, looking at him through this new frame of mind, a thousand flowers could bloom...
"You know," she said, her tone a little remorseful. "I think I underestimated you."
"Elaborate," he said.
"Well," she sighed, "I've always had an inkling that you're quite open-minded, and perhaps for years I've secretly poked you to see how much."
"Then one day you decided to just drop a thousand hammers?" he said, amused.
Her jaw veered to the right. "Quite," she said. "But I never truly believed it. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is—I was right, and wrong."
He smiled briefly to himself. "Then I was right, and wrong, too. About how easily you see through me."
"Yeah?" she said, smiling.
He tightened his fingers through hers and his inner brows sloped upwards in a little sad expression. "I feel very transparent with you, Hawke. And that makes me afraid. Though sometimes it feels like relief."
"I understand that," she said, nodding to herself. "More than you know. Though now it just kind of feels like relief."
"I see that," he said, watching her eyes. "You no longer have that haunted look that made you seem older."
She gasped in amusement. "What do I look like now?"
There came his wide grin, crow's feet and everything. "Like it would hurt me more if you took away your touch."
She whistled loudly. He chuckled.
"Make no mistake, Fenris. I will leave my mark on you," she said with confidence, leaning in.
"Who says you haven't already?" he said, receiving her kiss.
She put her arms around the back of his neck, and felt his hands crossing tightly on her back. His lips tasted like smoke and sweet fruits. She loved how he kissed—attentively and with agonising sensuality. Her nails invaded his hair. How easy it was to slip into quiet madness.
"Follow me," she said, breaking away from the heat for a moment. She took his hand and led them out of the concert room, holding up her ticket to Gaston as if they'd be back soon.
"Where are we going?" he asked, worried.
"Somewhere nice and dark," she said, perusing for a good spot. It was a maze of a place, and not every wall had light pieces.
One art piece just casually stopped working behind them. She smiled a fake toothy smile.
He looked around. People had dispersed. The music was still banging away, but it was peaceful here.
"Let's make out," she said, shrugging enthusiastically.
"Oh, is that all?" he said, letting himself dragged behind a wall where there was still a faint light in the distance.
"Would you like more?" she said, pushing him into the wall.
"Of course I do," he said, but looked away. "I-I just…"
"Don't rush yourself on my account," she said, placing his hands on her back. "We won't do anything you don't want to. You're ready when you're ready."
"Thank you," he said.
"But I'll say this," she said, leaning in with half-lidded eyes. "You've been making love to me in conversation for quite some time. I can feel it in your eyes, in your body, in your manner of being."
Could he be that transparent? "Really?" he said.
"It's why I keep you talking," she said, flashing her eyebrows. "The sound of your voice takes me places."
"I did not know that," he said with a modest chuckle.
"So, from where I'm standing, I don't think sex is going to be that big a bridge to cross."
"It feels like it," he said. She could feel his hands tremble. "Maybe you feel this way because you have hindsight."
"Maybe, yeah," she said. "Maybe it's good to remind you it's not a completely transforming experience. Though it can be deep, when you have feelings. I've had some for other people, but not like this… So, this is new for me too, in a way."
"You know, that actually makes me feel better," he said. His hands just sort of hugged her now. "But still. I don't know what could help me get over this feeling. Like I'm being pulled back, like I'm going to die or something."
"Panic?" she said.
"Probably," he said. He looked down. "It's my chest, especially, that I'm afraid of. It's where I'm most sensitive. But that's like… the centre of me. It can't just… disappear from the experience. It's where my heart is." It's where she was.
"We'll see when we get there, okay?" she said warmly. "We can take it slow." Then she looked sideways, and something flickered in her eyes. "You know… there are ways to be closer, but in which you don't have to be touched, don't have to be naked. You can be in control."
"I thought you said it's too early to jump into BDSM," he said.
She chuckled. "No, nothing like that," she said. "I meant you could…" she said, raising a very sultry eyebrow, "touch me."
"Touch you?" he said, his eyes gaining a little more life. "You mean…?"
She kissed him. He brought her closer, nice and tight. They continued what they started on the dance floor, madness taking over again. He was so close, and so there, she was in heaven. He even, sort of, grabbed her ass. Thirty-percent of it. The other seventy were being stopped and searched by the Respect police.
She pulled away and let him breathe. "Interested, Fenris?" she said, biting her lip.
"Quite," he said, contained. His big, dark eyes said yes. But his clenched jaw and trembling body said no.
"Panic?" she asked him.
"A little," he said, chuckling. "I… uh," he said, sniggering again. "I just don't know what I'm doing."
"Don't worry about that," she said, smiling. "I'll teach you."
"Will I get a grade like last time?" he said flirtatiously. He did study hard for the written test.
"Noooooo," she said warmly, wrapping his arms around him. "This is play time. No grades!"
"I suppose your body's reaction would be my grade," he said.
"My body has been reacting for three days now," she said, her head falling back. "No, scratch that. Three years! Whatever you do, it's going to be fantastic."
"You're exaggerating," he said.
"I'm really not," she said. She took his hand and placed it between her legs. "See?" she said, smirking.
His frown was nigh devastating. "Wow."
"This is why I think it's the easiest step," she said. "What do you think?"
"I think…" he said, his eyes almost black. "I think you're a genius."
"Genius?" she said, pleasantly surprised. "Then this will be fun."
"I hope so," he said, looking up at her. His mouth was slightly open, slightly breathing. His eyes fell halfway.
She smiled warmly, gently took his face and kissed him. "Who would have thunk it?" she said.
"Well…" he said, smiling a little. "You do bring out the freak in me."
"Yeah?"
"Well, it's you." He came closer, whispered in her ear. "Just you."
"Woof."
"So, kiss me," he said with a smile.
So she did. All happy and satisfied she was wearing men's trousers. What monster thought women's one-pieces shouldn't have openings? But before she could unbutton, he grabbed her and switched their positions. He pushed her into the wall and his face came near. "Tell me, and it is done," he said darkly.
"Unbutton me," she said. She didn't even know how he did it so fast. "Now touch me. It won't bite."
His hand stopped and rose a little. "Can it?"
"Of course not," she said, chuckling. "Just be nice."
"I am very nice," he said, and finally touched her. He kept eye contact. His hand was pleasingly cold.
His eyebrows rose. "You're not wearing underwear?" he said.
"Nope," she said.
"She said, while sustaining she didn't plan this," he said, smouldering.
"It's called being ready for anything."
He snickered to himself, and gave her a nice grin. "I do admire preparedness."
"Now move your middle fing—oh —"
"It's so wet in there," he said, surprised. "It's like when the docks got overflowed two years ago."
"And it's all be—ah—cause of you," she said, almost impertinently.
"I like it," he said, his teeth showing. "I am loving this. Where's the sink button?"
She laughed. "You mean the clitoris?"
"I won't repeat myself," he said impatiently.
"North… further north… now dig dee—yes," she said, her eyes doubling. She needed a minute. She put her hands behind his neck. "Very good," she finished.
"I am loving my effect on your face," he said, watching her.
"In that case, let's make it more advanced," she said. "Remember your writing lessons?"
"I excelled at calligraphy, yes," he said arrogantly.
"Well, excel away," she said, smirking.
His eyebrows rose, putting two and two together. "Very well," he said, taking her thigh and lifting it to him.
Reading upside-down writing was hard, but he could've written Death To All Mages in that moment and she wouldn't have cared. It was working. Brilliantly. She was holding onto him for dear life.
Fenris let go of her leg and put a hand over her mouth. She was going to alert the whole catacombs.
"Do you understand what I'm writing?" he said, uncovering her mouth.
"I… mmm…I don't know…" she said in a happy haze. "What are words even?"
He put his hand on her neck, quite gently. "It says…" His forehead came into hers. "Maker, I want you, Hawke."
She put a hand over her own mouth. How could he expect her not to when he said things like that? While she wasn't too happy to share the spotlight with the Maker, at this point, she was becoming a believer.
His eyes just kept on hers, magnetised, hypnotised. He shoved her hand away and kissed her, and his calligraphy started to lose flow. But he kept to it, like a good soldier.
And just when she was prepared to cave and say the Maker's name herself, he fucking pulled away. He stopped.
"Why…?" she said, disoriented and resentful. "Why would you do that?"
"To show you something," he said calmly. His hands came on her arms and, rather uncalmly, he pushed himself into her. Those trousers were bursting. "Wow…" she said. He kissed her neck.
Her body may have been en route to the orgasm, but her mind was already there.
"So… what? Do I need to say please?" she said mockingly, a little begrudgingly.
"Try," he said with a merciless gaze.
A flash of surprise came on her mean scowl. She mulled it over and smirked. "Fine," she said. "Please, Fenris."
"Please, Fenris?" he said, exaggerating his surprise, then snickered. "You must want me bad."
She let her head fall back against the wall, eyeing him contemptuously. "Very bad."
"My, my," he says, looking down. He looked amused. He came near, his hand sliding up her. "I must be a natural."
She groaned and struggled to open her eyes for a moment. She took him by the shoulders, sank her nails in. "I made you a natural," she growled.
He continued his calligraphy. "Well," he said, lingering, "you are a good teacher."
"I am," she said, her tone palpitating between confident and lost. "Now replace that finger with your thumb and use your middle and ring finger to go in."
"Like this?" he said, watching her face. "Yes… Perfect. Now curve the tips upwaaar—." She inhaled strongly. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about." She groaned at the slight pain, but then it was on. His mouth came open with desire as he watched her.
"I don't think I can write into two places at once," he said, about to laugh.
"No… oh…need… now. Just… make commas."
What an attentive man. What a studious man.
He let his thumb fall and the vanguard of his other hand came upon her. He was thinking on his feet. Even better.
What a clever man.
"Holy fuck, Hawke," he said, his eyebrows sloping upwards. He was breathing more rapidly, and couldn't help groaning. That drove her over into another dimension. The dynamite dimension. Her head fell back with a large smile, her legs trembling like crazy. Poets didn't know what they were talking about! Her world didn't end with a whimper, but with a bang.
"Whoa…" she said, holding onto him. She put her head on his shoulder and just… needed a minute.
"That was…" she heard his voice in her ear as he hugged her, "… spectacular."
"Uh huh…" she said, breathing.
He stroked her hair, all soft and patient.
Well… where do we go from here?
"You wanna… go back inside?" she mumbled on his shoulder.
"You go on. I'll meet you there," he said, and fished out a ticket from her pocket.
"What's wrong?" she said.
He looked at her as if she was silly. "What do you think?"
Oh, right. He needed to find a bathroom and clean himself. She forgot a lot of men had to go through that nightmare.
She searched her pockets and gave him a handkerchief. "Good luck," she said, huffing and biting on the inside of her lip.
"Thank you?" he said, squinting and shaking his head. He left. She lingered on his ever smaller silhouette and…
Where was she supposed to go again?
Back inside, the blushing lizards were on fire. The women were all singing a badass tune, while Merlin was cheering them on and urging the crowd to clap to the beat. She felt complete exhilaration that fate brought her here. She woo'ed them enthusiastically and danced a little dance.
Then the lizards came to a halt, and Merlin took to the stage.
"Thank you, ladies, gents and genderqueer events," he said. People laughed knowingly. It must have been an inside joke. "We are nearing the end of our show, so prepare your tears and your last good leg."
She could have sworn she knew that human woman from Lothering. She didn't look like her old self anymore, but her voice was familiar, her mannerisms. Levi's daughter, Marion. She used to get teased a lot for being a half-elf. She used to spend a lot of evenings talking shit with her after practice while Marion played guitar. She had a little crush on her, but it never became anything. And now she was playing in a band in Orlais with the queerest of the queer. Hawke couldn't help but feel a little resentful. But that was a long, long time ago.
"We're going to get a little more controversial, a little more out there, and finally… we're gonna go all out!" Merlin said. Poppy had switched to the cello. Neha spun her drumsticks in the air. And then…
"This one is called…" Merlin said, the music rising up, "The Bisexual Anthem."
"Motherfff—" Hawke exclaimed, jumping and looking around for Fenris. This was her song! She looked at the entrance and saw him talking to the bouncer. She jumped and made all the clownish overt waves to catch his attention.
Merlin went on very confidently, and very brazenly, about how he liked both girls and boys and he didn't give a fuck. He had nothing to hide, he didn't date both at the same time, and no one should tell him to pick a side.
"Bi pride—stand up!" he commanded.
Hawke shouted and danced the dance floor away. She couldn't help but let her inner circle watch, and hoped Crowley would get a massive kick out of it. He was the Bi Pride, after all.
He sang about his confusion when he liked a boy, and then started liking a girl. He sang about how neither kind of relationship was less genuine. He maintained how there are no real rules, and it's not a crime to be yourself. He flung his arms in the air, urged the crowd to give it their all, and continued singing shamelessly.
Fenris had finally reached her and she just took his hand, raised it and jumped around happily. He even raised his fist for her. What a wonderful fucking man!
Then Merlin changed tune, and the cello became more central. He and the alleged Marion started singing an absurdly colourful song about how they were tired of their bodies and urged the audience to just take their eyes, their hair, their teeth, their arms, just go and have fun with it.
The flower clusters started to morph into humanoid shapes disintegrating at will.
I've grown tired of this body. Cumbersome and heavy body.
Fenris started listening intently. Merlin and the human went into crescendo of pleading and angry resentment, calling on the Maker to take this body away. It wasn't about suicide; it was about hating being in one's body. He identified with that wholeheartedly. The song was tragic and comical and excruciating all at the same time.
And then Merlin took to the stage alone. The cello played a high, anticipatory tune. His voice became very present and genuine and had a quiet strength to it. He sang directly to someone, whoever that was, who thought they could put a bird in a cage and had the nerve to think it wouldn't have the resilience to escape. Someone who capitalised on his pain and left him to die. But he didn't, of course. He was too strong, too free, too sure to allow himself to be destroyed.
But I refuse to let you make me feel like I can't fly!
Not only will I soar again, I'll OWN the fucking sky! Yeah!
So I put my middle finger UP!
I'm done being your slave!
My generations had ENOUGH!
And you should be afraid!
Oh-whoa, oh-oh-oh, NOT your prisoner!
Oh-whoa, oh-oh-oh, better listen when I say—
I put my middle finger UP!
I'm done being your slave!
Fenris should have felt offended, but… it wasn't coming. Amusement, sure. He felt amusement that a freeborn elf was singing so blatantly about slavery. But his voice was so powerful, his words so honest, that it filled him with immense satisfaction. If someone could vociferate the spirit that carried Fenris over these painful years, it was this little guy. It gave it the fire and momentousness it needed to make it real and tangible.
The flower clusters morphed into luminous middle fingers as petals flew all over. Neha was drumming so hard she flung her horns to play additional cymbals.
Hawke was watching him, waited for him to give or rescind permission to cheer to this song. He saw her standing there stupidly. He smirked, took her fist, raised her middle finger, lifted her arm in the air. Then he stood tall and did the same with both his middle fingers. In fact, everyone was raising their middle fingers. It felt like a shared consciousness of resistance. Sweet, beautiful resistance.
And then the end game light show began. All the blushing lizards sung. It was a sweet tune, building up to a sonorous anthem. Hawke swayed into his shoulder lazily and held his hand.
They sang about uniqueness, about being oneself, about believing one can do it all the live long day. About the immense fire within. And to their surprise, one by one, every old art piece travelled to the room flying through the walls—the rainbow whale, the purple flower rams, the galah cockatoos, the blue-pink butterflies, the fluorescent frogs, even the damn stars and comets. The room shook with excitement and happiness. It was like a magical love letter to the world. Merlin was singing with open arms and had the entire room cheering for them.
"This is friggin' awesome!" Hawke shouted.
"Fantastic," Fenris agreed.
When the song ended, Merlin announced the band members.
"You had Neha Adaar at the drums, Marion Vallis at guitar, and Poppy Bavis at a million fucking instruments!"
"Adaar? That means 'weapon'. It suits her," Fenris said.
"I knew it!" Hawke said.
"Knew… Qunlat?" he said.
"Come with me," she said, taking him to the band. They were stretching and getting off the stage.
"You wish to join?" he said, amused.
"No, I know the human," she said. "And I'm certain you have sad man stuff to talk with that guy."
"Sad m—" he said, scowling, a little hurt. But he couldn't disagree. "Sure. What the hell. This night can't get any crazier, can it?"
"Excuse me!" Hawke said childishly.
"Hey, weird girl," Merlin said amicably. "Hey, quiet boy," he added with a little smile.
"Man, you fucking aced that bi anthem!" she said excitedly and high-fived him. "You're all fucking brilliant!"
"Andraste preserve me, look what the storm brought in," Marion said, shaking her head incredulously. "You're alive!"
"I sure fucking am!" she said and went to hug her. "Maker, it's been so long!"
"A whole decade!" Marion said. "Too long."
"You know Harding?" Merlin asked, all confused.
"Harding?" Marion said, snorting. "That's Hawke. The clown of Lothering!"
Fenris broke into laughter. He could barely hold onto himself.
"Pleased to meet you, clown of Lothering!" Merlin said, shaking her hand. "I've heard lots of unrepeatable stories about you."
"Good," she said, clearing her throat. "We should have dinner!"
"Yeah, absolutely! We can squeeze them in, can't we?" Marion said to Merlin.
"Yeah, yeah. We're staying at The Randy Duck. Unless you're tired, of course."
Hawke looked at Fenris so pleadingly it looked like she was going to piss herself.
He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Fine. As long as it's a low-down."
"Yeah, man. We're hungry and on our last legs," Merlin said. "Anyone else object?"
Poppy shrugged. Neha rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and said, "Fine…"
"It's like you're twins," Merlin mused.
"Success!" Hawke shouted happily.
Night time, The Randy Duck
It was an old-timey little Marcher inn hidden downtown. The walls were burgundy and there were a lot of flower pots. They all sat down at a private table, Hawke and Marion dominating the conversation. Merlin was butting in with funny comments. Poppy and Neha were conversing more quietly.
Fenris felt left out and unsure what to offer to the conversation. It was mostly about Lothering, and he was already familiar with a lot of it. But then Marion had asked the question.
"So how do you know Hawke?" she said to him.
"We met in Kirkwall," he said.
The band suddenly shared strange looks and shifted in their seats.
"He's my… uh… man… friend," Hawke drawled, scratching the back of her head.
Marion snorted. "You mean your boyfriend?"
She made a clusterfuck of half-expressions.
"Essentially," Fenris said calmly, crossing his arms.
Hawke looked at him with raised eyebrows and contained her smile.
"Aw, shucks," Merlin said despondently.
"You'll survive," Neha said, crossing her arms too.
"Like twins, I say!" Merlin teased them.
"I swear I know you from somewhere," Fenris said. "Were you ever in the Free Marches?"
"Sometimes I go back," Neha said. "I would have remembered you, though."
"You seem battle trained," Fenris said perceptively.
"Yeah, I run on a zero hours contract with the Valo-Kas mercenary company," Neha said, clearing her throat. "But this is my true passion."
"I see," Fenris said. "Sounds like I couldn't have afforded you."
"Not one bit," Neha said flatly.
"Look at them getting along," Merlin teased, wiping away a fake tear. "It's making me emotional."
"What doesn't make you emotional?" Neha said, smirking.
"You talking about armour and shit. Then I'm just asleep," Merlin said, snoring loudly.
"So, I gotta ask," Hawke said. "What the hell was… that place?"
"We didn't do it," Merlin said quickly. He cleared his throat. "No apostates at this table."
"No, of course not," Hawke said, shrugging.
Fenris scanned the room and played Guess The Apostate.
"No, we really didn't," Marion said. "We just… knew them once."
Why did they all look so uncomfortable?
"How did you manage to make the Chantry let you play there?" Hawke asked with admiration.
"We asked nicely," Merlin said, eating. He made circles with his fork. "Then we asked less nicely."
"Oh, come on, guys," Hawke said. "There's a story here."
They all looked to Marion. She waved her palms tiredly. "She's cool."
They looked at Fenris.
"He's too school for cool," Hawke said, smirking. "But he's cool."
"But are you cool like we're cool?" Merlin pushed.
Fenris frowned. "What?"
"He's asking if you're queer," Hawke clarified.
"What, is everyone here queer?" Fenris said.
"Uhm, yeah," they all said.
He was never going to see these people again. And he was drunk and high.
"I don't know. Maybe," he said, contained.
"Whoa, not even a baby queer?" Merlin said. "You about to convert him?" he said to Hawke.
She laughed, very amused. "I'm not recruiting."
"Anymore," Marion added, smirking.
Hawke slapped her elbow. "Some recruiter. I didn't even get to you!"
"Eh, Orlais got to me," Marion said, shrugging and smiling.
Fenris went on the balcony to get some air. There was a lot of new energy and he struggled with those things. He looked at the full moon and asked himself if he'd ever get back to the chateau. Merlin had been distracting them left, right and centre from discussing the story of the flower catacombs. He couldn't help but feel curious.
"Hey, quiet boy," Merlin said from behind, with a joint in his mouth.
"Hey… loud boy," Fenris said, keeping his eyes to the moon.
"It's okay to question, you know," he said, coming next to him on the balustrade.
"I know," Fenris said.
"And if you need help," Merlin said, opening his arms condescendingly with the cig in his mouth. "Daddy Merlin is here."
Fenris's eyes rolled to the back of his head. He looked back through the window, where Hawke was sitting talking to Marion. She gave him a fake toothy smile and two clownish thumbs up. Was she behind this?
"Flirty Boy would be more appropriate," he said grumpily.
"That works, too," Merlin said, lighting up. "So… Kirkwall."
"You've been?"
"Yeah, didn't plan to though," Merlin said, smoking. He offered it to Fenris, but he refused. "One hell of a city."
"Very memorable," Fenris said.
"How'd you end up there?"
"I escaped slavery and went as south as I could get."
"Yeah, Seheron is… not pretty, I hear."
"No." Fenris remembered something. "How did you end up donating to the war relief?"
"Ah, that's a controversial story," Merlin said. "Let's get to know each other a little better."
"Sure," Fenris mumbled. "What's your story?"
"That's a little less controversial," Merlin said, exhaling. "I'm trans."
Andraste, the catacombs must have been a massive mage conspiracy or something if the elf thought coming out was a tamer story.
"I wouldn't have noticed," Fenris said.
"Thank you," Merlin said with a little smile. "Yeah, so… what else?" he said, putting his arms together on the balustrade. "I'm from Markham. My brother is a git." He took a drag. "I make a mean Qunari coffee. Oh, and I'm a widower."
Fenris didn't even know what to say. He was laying it on thick, and now he couldn't be mean.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Is that why you're depressed?"
"Among other things," Merlin said, smoking. He looked back through the window then turned back around. "Neha's my sister-in-law."
"Right. The overprotectiveness."
"Yeah, Idris would crawl her way out of the Fade if Neha didn't look after me. And I, her."
"How long were you married?"
"Almost a decade," Merlin said, nodding pensively to the moon. "Maker, it went by too fast."
"And now you're just sleeping with everything that moves?" Fenris said.
Merlin laughed. "Not really. It's more of a coping mechanism. It repels more people than it attracts."
"Is that by design?"
"I guess, in hindsight." He looked at the stars. "I don't know. I just miss kissing someone. It's just… empty when I do it now."
"Perhaps you haven't met the right person," Fenris said.
"No, I definitely did," Merlin said. "I don't think I have a second soulmate."
"You believe in that?" Fenris said.
"I didn't use to, but I'm a believer now," Merlin said. "It's just indescribable."
"Ah, and here I was about to ask for a description," Fenris said, only a little sarcastically. He was actually curious. He didn't exactly believe in such things, but he was a romantic at heart.
"Idris and I were best friends. Inseparable," Merlin said. "She and Neha took me in when I ran away from home as a teen."
"Is that the formula, then?" Fenris said, smirking. "Friends, first?"
"Well, yeah, but it's more than that, isn't it?" Merlin said, smoking. "Like you can't imagine life without them. Can't imagine not going straight to them with any kind of news, any kind of thought or feeling. And it's nice and safe and… I don't know. Spiritual."
"Spiritual?" Fenris said, raising an eyebrow. He was interested now.
"Idris was a builder. Well, I called her an architect, but she said only humans get to be that."
"She wasn't wrong."
"Anyway, she'd travel to all these places to restore old abandoned buildings. She saw their spirit somehow, and wanted to give them life again, their 'true form', as she'd say. She used to say buildings are like people. They need a lot of kindness and care, and they hurt when they're neglected and abused." He took a long drag. "I was still struggling with my identity back in the day. Was presenting myself as a lesbian. A little butch king. But Idris saw through that. Saw my spirit, my… 'true form'."
"So, she supported you," Fenris said.
"Support is insufficient. She carried me," Merlin said. "I carried her too, in a way. Made her believe in herself, that she could be more than just a hired sword. Be a fucking architect!" he said to the moon, flailing his arms with the cig in his mouth. It looked almost like he was telling her that.
"Is that the story behind the slave song?" Fenris said.
"Oh, that. That was more… about everything. About elves, Vashoth, internalised oppression," Merlin said. "I hope I didn't offend you."
"No, it was good," Fenris said. "I also quite liked the one about the heart, and the one about the body."
"I love those ones," Merlin said. "Those were mine."
"So, your body hate was because of—"
"Yeah, mystery solved," Merlin said, showing his wing chest tattoo proudly. It was hiding away two scars. "Did it speak to you?"
"Yes… I have a lot of pain issues," Fenris said.
"I feel you," Merlin said. "You know, I saw a great doctor in Markham. She specialises in pain. She shares an office with the surgeon that did me."
"Really?" Fenris said, contained. "Not one of those who treat you like you're crazy?"
Merlin chuckled. "I know what you mean. No, she's cool. I can give you her address." He went through the door and asked for a quill and paper. He wrote it down and gave it to him. "Tell her Merlin sent you. You'll get a discount."
"Thank you," Fenris said, putting the paper in his pocket.
"So, your story?" Merlin said, rolling himself a normal cigarette.
"I can save you the time," he said. "I don't remember who I am."
"Whoa," Merlin said, his eyes doubling. "And here I thought I had problems."
"Everyone has problems," Fenris said.
"Well, it's good you have someone," Merlin said with a little pursed smile. "She your soulmate?"
Fenris laughed. "I don't know," he said, resting on his arms. "We're… still at the beginning." But deep down, he knew that wasn't the whole truth.
"Well, if it doesn't work out, you can find me here," Merlin said shamelessly. "Actually, I don't know where I'll be. I haven't decided."
"Because the catacombs are going to be torn down?" Fenris said.
"Yeah," Merlin said, smoking. "Chantry doesn't want this to become a thing."
"It probably shouldn't," Fenris said.
"You against magic?" Merlin said.
"I'm… weary of it," Fenris said. "And not without cause."
Merlin watched him and squinted. "Tevinter tore you a new one, didn't it?"
"And how," Fenris said, contained.
"I'm not against magic, but I don't like Tevinter. Bunch of puffed up human mages smashing their boots on the face of our people. Fuck them. Fuck them to the grave. The world would be better off without them."
"No. The world would crumble without them, unfortunately," Fenris said. "They're the only thing keeping the Qunari at bay."
"True," Merlin said defeatedly. "So, you don't remember Seheron?"
"No," Fenris said emotionlessly.
Merlin put another cigarette in his mouth. "Lucy was from Seheron."
"Who's Lucy?" Fenris said.
"The artist," Merlin said, searching his breast pocket for a match. "Lucretia."
"Hawke had a friend Lucretia. She had a hard time with that name in Ferelden."
"Yeah, this girl also had a hard time in Kirkwall with that name. That's why she went by Lucy."
"Kirkwall?" Fenris said, frowning.
"You won't find her there anymore," Merlin said.
"Obviously," Fenris said, waving around to Val Chevin.
"You won't find her anywhere, anymore," Merlin said, pursing his lips bitterly. "Only her soul remains… in those art pieces."
Her… soul? The one that malfunctioned, and in front of whom he did unspeakable things with Hawke? Great. Just… wonderful. He cleared his throat. "What happened?"
"You can't tell people," Merlin said. "It'll get us into trouble. It'll get everyone into trouble. It'll get the Chantry's wrath upon you."
"I've been thoroughly warned," Fenris said amicably.
Merlin sighed and prepared himself. "Alright then… Lucy was a teenager in the Kirkwall Circle. She… didn't fit in."
"Because she was Seheroni?" Fenris said.
"And Vashoth, and black," Merlin said. "I think her dad was a Tevinter deserter. Got married to a Tal Vashoth mage. She died in the war. Her dad didn't want them to end up slaves, and he couldn't teach her magic, so he thought the Circles in the South would be the lesser evil."
Fenris listened patiently.
"They got to Antiva, I believe. They wanted to go to Rivain, but there was a big embargo at the time. Then Lucy got transferred to Kirkwall. She hated it. She couldn't make friends. Not even after all the trouble she went through to cut her horns."
"That's… very frustrating," Fenris tried to empathise.
"She was sure she wouldn't pass her Harrowing. She was bad at conventional magic. She struggled socialising. She was bullied a lot. But she got along with the Tranquil, in a way. A morbid sort of getting along, because she saw them as her future."
Fenris remembered Hawke's fears of Devon becoming Tranquil if she was taken to a Circle.
"One night she had a little breakdown and wanted to find a quiet place to kill herself," Merlin said, as if he wasn't bothered by that. "And instead she stumbled on some sort of old device in the basements. Don't ask me what it is or how she did it, but it created a magic passage directly into the catacombs, which were sealed before."
"So, she couldn't really escape," Fenris said.
"She wasn't trying to escape," Merlin said, shaking his head. "She wanted to be in the Circle. She told me there was no life for her outside. She could barely take care of herself with people watching her every move, let alone in a world where no one cared about her. And she didn't want to get her dad in trouble."
"How did you meet then?" Fenris asked.
"Well," Merlin said pensively, exhaling his smoke. "Lucy started spending time away in the catacombs. Made it some kind of safe space. Don't ask me how she did those living paintings, I have no idea. But she told me she was too in her head all the time, and she wanted to make room. And… that was in her head. That whole world."
Fenris was impressed. It really was her soul in those walls then. He felt even worse now. And Hawke was surely going to die inside.
"A genius," he said.
"Yeah," Merlin said, breathing smoke out of his nose. "A savant."
"But how did you meet?" Fenris pressed.
He looked a little uncomfortable. "My… former manager, Heidi, found her. She was… I don't know. In some dwarven mafia. Was trying to find dwarven thaigs. Found Lucy. Struck a deal with her to let us practice there. You came through the sewers, didn't you?"
"Correct."
"You saw how you couldn't hear anything until you were actually inside," Merlin said. "It was a good, good place. That's how we met Lucy. She became our friend."
"I thought she was bad at making friends."
"We're not just any people, are we? We're weird too," Merlin said, chuckling. "We gave her the Grade A Warm Welcome. Neha took to her because of their shared heritage, Poppy because she's also an inexplicable genius, Marion because of their—" He stopped himself. "Girly stuff."
Guess The Apostate was over. Fenris won.
"And you?" he said
Merlin looked down, his eyes becoming sad. "I don't know. I guess I saw her as a daughter," he said, flicking on his cigarette.
"A daughter?" Fenris asked, surprised.
"Idris was pregnant when she died," Merlin said. "Not by me, obviously. But we worked around it." They were trying. "Lucy was also, you know… very creative. Like me, like Idris. I understood that insatiable hunger to create something from nothing. Reminded me of Idris too, in a way. She was also a little awkward."
All of it made sense. Why he was so punched in the gut by fate.
"So, we hung out a lot. Helped her grow into herself, have better luck in the Circle."
"And she animated the art for your songs," Fenris said.
"It was just for fun. She animated the songs she liked."
"How does it still work if she's no longer here?"
"I have… no idea," Merlin said, looking at the moon. "They're starting to fade out. There used to be more." He contained his feelings and went on. "But I'm gonna sing for her as much as I can, as loud as I can. Try my best to keep her alive. Until they physically drag me away."
"Are you planning to protest?" Fenris said.
"No…" Merlin said despondently. "I know my hands are tied."
"What happened?"
"Ugh… I hate thinking about it," Merlin said. "But let's not leave stories unfinished." He sighed heavily. "Heidi, our former manager, kept trying to convince us to play there for the public. We said no. Even Neha said no. Oh, yeah. Neha was with Heidi. Anyway, Heidi was also growing resentful that it blocked the way to the thaig. Obviously it wasn't Lucy's fault there was a huge collapse beyond the catacombs, but… there was all sorts of resentment there. So, one day she… leaked the information. And blackmailed us into playing. And of course, the Templars came in like a fucking falcon."
This was going nowhere pleasant.
"They came upon us. Forced us to show them how she did it. We didn't know, but they still took us hostage. Neha's the only one of us who really fights so… we were very outnumbered. They grabbed Lucy by the hair, screamed in her face, slapped her, all that good old Andrastian love. Told her they'd kill us if she didn't confess."
Merlin exhaled deeply.
"So she took us through the thing to Kirkwall. Then the Knight-Commander came and didn't even ask questions. She destroyed the device. Even the Orlesian Templars were outraged by that. And then…"
Merlin was trembling all over now.
"Then…?" Fenris said softly.
"… she just made her Tranquil," Merlin said quietly, with a dead gaze on the night. "On the spot, in front of my eyes. I saw the life come out of her eyes. It… destroyed me."
Fenris didn't know what to say.
"She was just a kid…" Merlin said, about to cry.
Fenris raised a hand and it awkwardly flew places before it had the nerve to touch his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Merlin. You went through terrible times."
"I'm still going through them," Merlin said, wiping away his tears. "I just… I don't really see the point in being here after all this."
"You have Neha."
"Yeah, if it wasn't for her, for them. I don't know…"
"You feel it was your fault," Fenris said, removing his hand.
"It was my fault," Merlin said, his voice breaking. He shook his head bitterly. "I knew Heidi was stirring shit up. But I didn't want to believe it. I just sat there, fake dick in my hand, and did nothing. I was supposed to protect her!"
Fenris looked at Neha through the window. "She must feel the same."
"Neha?" Merlin said. "She doesn't look it. She plays tough. But she put her own girlfriend to the sword."
"Really?" Fenris said incredulously.
"Well, she didn't plan it," Merlin said. "It was my fault, yet again. I got into a fight with Heidi when we were leaving Kirkwall. On a cursed shithole of a coast."
"The Wounded Coast."
"Yeah, that nightmare. I shouldn't have picked a fight there. But I was physically boiling, physically hurting. I accused her of everything, and she blew up at me, told me everything she really thought about me—that I was a weak delusional dyke who wanted to play pretend to shield myself from the struggles of being a woman. Called me all sorts of names. Then Neha stepped in. She didn't really kill her. They were fighting, and she slipped off the cliff. But… still. It was a shitshow."
"You're full of regrets."
"Yeah."
Fenris looked back at Hawke through the window. Her face was already losing her usual colourfulness. If she was getting the same story from Marion, it was going to punch her in the gut. Maybe even drive her to cause more trouble with the Templars. He tried to forget about that and focus on the moment.
He had to deal with the sad man.
Maybe he needed some time away from staring at that moon. Fenris sat down in the balcony against the balustrade. "Come now," he said.
Merlin sat down next to him and let his head fall back.
"So… what's it like being in a band of women?" Fenris said, trying to distract him.
Merlin chuckled. "It's a lot of female energy." But then he rocked his head. "But I like it. I've always gotten along better with women."
"Hmph," Fenris said, thinking. "So have I." Hawke, Aveline, Leandra. There was Varric, of course, but they had a bit of a rival brother relationship.
"Plus, they all get frustrated or grossed out with me sometimes," Merlin said, his eyes starting to light up. "They say 'Ugh, Merlin, your man brain just can't understand, okay?' And I find that euphoric."
"It validates you," Fenris said perceptively.
"Yes," Merlin said, smiling with his teeth. "They're awesome people."
"How'd you meet Marion and Poppy?"
"In a fire," Merlin said, casually smoking.
Fenris blinked. "What?"
"Idris had her first big gig. She refurbished a noblewoman's mansion in the countryside. She invited us to the party. Probably thought she'd be the talk of the town for having Vashoth guests. It was hilarious. We were like the belles of the ball, except everyone was terrified of us. Marion and Poppy were playing minstrels. Neha was challenged to a duel by some tough guy. Knocked over a candle. Set the hall on fire."
"Wow, what a party," Fenris said, huffing in amusement.
"Talk of the town, indeed," Merlin mumbled through his thousandth' cigarette.
Fenris nodded, thinking to himself. "It must be nice to have a family."
Merlin looked at him empathetically, pondering on it. "It's what matters, yeah. Blood… not so much. My blood fucking hated me. These girls… they're here for me, all the time. I'm very lucky."
Fenris considered his life. The many times Hawke was there for him, the times he tried in his own left-handed way to be there for her. He felt he could do more. And it was undeniable that he beamed inside when she saw her laugh. He thought of the times Varric and Aveline were there for him. How he tried to help them too when Hawke had left looking for Carver. He thought of Armand. Didn't he have a nascent family… but a family nonetheless?
"It feels… like I'm lucky, too," Fenris said.
"Do they know that?" Merlin said.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you tell them or show them you value them?"
Fenris didn't speak. He had something to ponder on for the foreseeable future. "I struggle with that," he admitted.
Merlin pursed his lips and touched his shoulder. He had made such a good decision wearing coats. "It's okay," he said softly. "It takes time to let go of the past. You'll find your way."
Fenris smiled a little. "Thanks," he said.
"Let me show you something hilarious," Merlin said, beaming as he searched his breast pocket.
He felt safer, less rigid. He felt like looking at Merlin. At his nice eyebrows and stupid mouth. At—
O… kay.
Great.
He needed to learn that fucking anthem now.
He held three fingers to his forehead and shook his head. Hawke was going to make them wear matching pride shirts and shit. He could feel the rainbow fabric being pushed into his face.
Merlin took out a crumpled little picture, a small painting of them all at a forest lake. There was a dragon flying above them. Merlin had his arms wide open and a leg up and his face was inexplicable. With an arm on his back, there was Idris, looking sideways with a nascent face of alarm. There was Neha on a chair looking at the dragon and screaming and her drink was in the air spilling on her. She looked so scared it was hilarious. Marion and Poppy were cuddling, but their smiles were caught in a transition to fright.
"I'll… need more information," Fenris said, a little flabbergasted.
Merlin gave him the picture and chuckled. "We were having our portraits painted on a vacation and this dragon just… flew over us! Went up on a mountain, and we ran like hell. But the painter had the very illuminated idea to paint us in that moment of transition he witnessed. I wasn't even mad!"
Fenris laughed. "What a clever idea." They looked like they were having fun before their trip became even more interesting. Merlin looked very happy, not at all the doom guy he was today. "You've got yourself some good people."
"Yeah," Merlin said warmly, pocketing the picture. He made himself stand up.
Fenris stood up too. Merlin hit him gently on the arm. "Thanks, man. For reminding me." He was preparing to go inside.
Oh, for fuck's sake…
"Wait."
Fenris took Merlin's face, inhaled deeply, and planted his lips on the elf. Merlin tripped a little and held on Fenris's wrist cuff. It was strong and short, like Merlin himself.
"There," Fenris said, letting go of him. He straightened his wrist cuff and prepared to leave. "That should keep you going."
"Uhm, Hawke…" Marion said, elbowing her. "I don't know how to say this, but… my good friend is kissing your boyfriend."
She looked at the window, her jaw landing in the Deep Roads.
"Oh, come on!" Neha said angrily. She stood up, prepared to beat integrity into him.
"No, no," Hawke said innocently, raising a finger. "It's okay, Neha. We are just witnessing," she said, making finger pistols, "enlightenment."
Disclaimer: "Bisexual Anthem" by Domo Wilson, "Body" by Mother Mother, "Middle Finger" by Bohnes and "Just like Fire" by P!nk.