The next day, Fenris shot out of bed like it was made of hot lava. "My flowers!" he shouted.
Hawke sprung up, ready for another night terror debacle, but… did he say something about flowers? She held onto her chest and her eyes were coming out of their sockets as she watched him trip on himself and put on his trousers backwards.
"Slow down, Fen Fen, you will hurt yourself."
"They could be dead!" he said, all swirly and once again, putting his trousers on backwards. "What the fuck am I doing?!"
She tilted her head. One the one hand, when and why was he almost naked? On the other… nice. She was never this turned on and amused at the same time. She held back her chuckles, barely. "You're spiralling."
"I'm fine," he insisted, jumping on one leg to get his leggings off. In his chaotic jumping, he bumped into a corner of her nightstand and gave himself the ass stabbing of the century. Mugs fell, books fell, he fell, one pant leg to his knee and the other stuck on his foot. Before he could finish a curse, he started a new one. A veritable cornucopia of visha-ven-vesh!
Hawke fell out of bed laughing. She felt so bad! "Are y—…are you oh—… are—" But she couldn't. The laughs just kept coming, stealing her breath away. She rocked back and forth, holding her painful belly.
Before she knew it, the white-marked arm was coming straight at her. He pulled her up by her pajamas, spun her around, pushed her down the bed, and then—
BANG!
The deep booming spank reverberated around the room.
BANG!
That one ricocheted through her fucking skin straight out on the other side. He softly caressed her, then—
BANG!
She bit hard on her lip and sank her nails in the covers. She turned her head to the side and saw him standing tall, canine gleaming in a crooked grin. He put an arm over her back, pushing her down, and caressed her aching cheek again. He was all kinds of hard. His slender, sculpted torso contracted, leaned back and then—
BANG!
"Mother of—!"
Fenris climbed on top of her and sat down on her back. This… confused her. She saw his hands come down at either side of her and she felt his hairs on her neck when his head came near. "Next time… you will not have the comfort of facing away," he said in a deep voice.
She was no longer confused. If his cock pumped any more blood, she was sure it would just fall straight through her spinal cord. Next time better be soon and she better be well, or she will have fucking screamed.
He swiftly came off her and put on his clothes. Before he went out the door, he looked down at himself. He looked at the ceiling, inhaled deeply and sighed. When he finally went out, something in his own spinal cord commanded him to stop and he looked to his right. "Good morning, Leandra…"
"Good afternoon… even…" she heard her mother say.
"I just uh… need to… water my uh… my plants," he drawled, leaving.
She was so fucking jealous of those plants.
Her mother came in the doorway, judgmental and inquisitive.
"He just… err… he just really hated that spider…" Hawke drawled, slowly hiding under her duvet.
She heard her mother sigh loudly. "I am going to Val Royeaux with my girlfriends at the end of the month."
"Thank you."
Afternoon, Fenris's Mansion
"I am so, so sorry," Fenris said to the flowers. They, of course, did not respond. He, of course, rolled his eyes. "Why am I talking to plants?" he said, disappointed. He looked out the window and his reflection said, "Why am I talking to myself?"
The water god reflected on the last few days, then the last hour, and consequently overwatered his subjects. "Venhedis," he mumbled, rubbing his forehead. What did he know about taking care of life? He was a reaper.
Was, he felt the need to highlight.
He stared at the flowers, taking in their beauty, and he could swear he was close to tying the feeling of deja-vu to something. Something… something about… Urgh! It just wouldn't come. He was so frustrated. His life felt like one long kick in the urethra, and just when the dust settled and the flowers bloomed, it decided to get infected.
He sighed loudly, buried his face in his hands and let himself fall on the bed. He hadn't had a minute to himself back there, even when she was unconscious. He'd spent it all filling his mind with everything and anything just to forget his anxiety. He'd spent so much time in general battling the feeling he wasn't real, but now… Now he felt real. He felt real. He was terrified to lose that feeling. Disoriented at the thought the world felt unreal, instead. Like the world stopped, and his life suddenly began.
It just means you're more in touch with your feelings. Just… listen, he remembered Hawke saying.
What she failed to foresee was that feeling in touch with your own crankiness only empowered it further and could not possibly facilitate a breakthrough. Was he doing it wrong?
Why was he so cranky, anwyay? He had a wonderful couple of days, if he didn't count the almost perfect disaster that led him there.
It was probably being away from… 'home', he thought. Away from his things, his space, his rituals. It depleted him a little. Speaking of rituals, he hadn't masturbated in…. he counted on his fingers… four days?!
Well, mystery fucking solved, he thought. Time to rectify that.
But… that was also a miss. He had about three consistent fantasies he worked with. One was Hawke riding him like no tomorrow as he pulled her hips back and forth. That one always worked. Another one was her pleasuring him. That wish came true… for like… two seconds. Then there was the third one… a very hit and miss one, because he wanted to hit, and he had to miss. Hawke sometimes was just… insufferable. She knew it and she used it, knowing her charm would keep you in place. She had too much power sometimes. Too much power as a presence, and too much power over him. She knew she did. He wanted to pull her power away by a thread. Wanted her unseated and insecure for a little while. But that wasn't all. The more she irritated him, the more he wanted to grab, scratch, wrap, tie, bite, pull, push, slap and/or break her somehow. For a long time, he thought it was just an unnatural combination of hostility towards power and one hell of a violent instinct. He was free now, after all. Free to hate, to be angry, to express his emotions, to be genuine. But… he couldn't express that. Not in anything more than a joke.
You make jokes about it, but every joke has a grain of truth, he remembered her saying.
She saw through him over the years. Perhaps even tried to get it out of him. She didn't even hide it anymore. One would assume if the other was willing and enthusiastic, he could give his inclinations free reign. But… no. It felt wrong. He couldn't accept that he could have this desire towards someone he liked… loved even. Someone he wanted to protect, nurture, make happy. It made no sense.
Some chains were necessary.
Except… he broke those chains too. He didn't even see it coming. He just felt like he was suddenly filled with all of it. Like her laughter at his pain, albeit self-induced, pulled him into a flashback ride of every single joke, smirk and cheek at his expense. They all came together into a massive hammer and broke his chains. So, he sat on her.
Spanking her felt good. Sitting on her felt good. He was sure he would have given himself a happiness aneurism if he had just turned her around.
But… wasn't that just the Reaper in him? That lost and foolish heart-shaped-holed man. Or worse, the monster outside.
Yes… it was that monster… calling.
Well, doesn't he deserve transformation too? Hawke would probably say.
As if he were some kind of master psychic alchemist. Pfft. Let's stay grounded in reality. That monster was bigger, stronger and angrier than he was. He had no way of defending himself in that realm. Softening a creature such as that was reserved for fairy tales.
Except monsters in fairy tales always get destroyed, Hawke would have said.
He buried his face in his hands once more. Venhedis! Now he couldn't even fuck himself!
He came up, buttoned his trousers and went to his desk.
He thought he was crazy. He wrote, What do you want from me?
And in the next moment, a thought came through. I want to keep you safe. He wrote it down.
I am safe with her, he wrote back.
His heart started thumping in his chest. Is she? the monster wrote.
Fuck off, he wrote.
You are a fool, the monster replied.
Fenris scowled down at the diary. Good, he wrote back. He stabbed a period through the paper, threw away the quill, and stood up.
Fuck this overbearing, doubt-casting, cock-blocking son of a bitch! He was going to give himself an orgasm now just out of spite!
He went back to bed, closed his eyes, and he was back in her room. He was back on the floor, while she had a laughing fit. He came up, grabbed her, threw her on the bed, spanked her like no tomorrow. He put a hand down her pants to check if she was wet. Of course she was, that beautiful denizen of chaos, smart and full of filth and joy.
"If that's not the big bad wolf, what is?" she said, chuckling.
He pulled her up to him and hugged her from behind, running his hands along her body. "I'm fluffy," he said, kissing her neck and taking her top off. He brought her hips to his and put a hand down her pants. He put the other on her neck and felt her heartbeats in her veins. He loved her moans. He knew her well now. Knew when he was doing well, and when he was doing very well. He aimed to please and tease. So, he stopped and hugged her again and planted little bites on her back.
But with her hands free, Hawke was unstoppable. She would reach out for his pants and grab it and say something like, "Oo. Looks like he's really enjoying himself. Do you have something to tell me, perhaps?"
He bit her harder and spanked her again, and she loved it.
"Oh, come on, now, you know the words," she said with an evil smile.
"I'm not your Daddy," he said flatly, feeling her up.
"You're something. Might as well be—"
"Shut up," he said, turning her around. He pushed her down again, sat on her chest and took his cock out. She was breathing and looking at it with half-lidded eyes in-between her messed up hair. He brushed the long hair off her forehead and couldn't help himself but caress her cheek.
"Aww, you are fluffy," she said with a big grin. "Fluffy and caring like a—"
"Shut up," he said again, putting his cock in her mouth.
Joy of joys, she enjoyed silence.
Joy of joys, he felt nothing but pleasure, even as her hands ran along his thighs and abdomen.
He felt so very good. He felt seen, handsome, important, like a million sovereigns. He took it out slowly out of her mouth and slapped her cheek with it. She liked it, but her violent teeth were showing now. He loved that. "Good girl—"
He was out of time. Four days… He gasped loudly as his cum shot out of him, which surprised him greatly. He never made noises by himself. He needed a minute… the pleasure travelled down his nerve endings and crushed him sweetly.
As he stood up and buttoned himself, he flipped his diary off and went to his wardrobe.
Afternoon, The Hawke Estate
"Fenris, don't you want some lunch?" Leandra said in the main hall. He smelled paninis.
"Thank you…" Fenris said, squinting. "But while I'm here, stop cooking."
"Alright," she said, chuckling. "Someone is trying to prove himself."
"You've been through enough," he said flatly.
He went upstairs, almost went inside, made an awkward pirouette, then knocked on the door. It felt weird to knock now, but…
"I'm not decent!" Hawke's voice came through the door.
"It's me," Fenris said. That felt good to say.
"Hold on—" He heard her trip and curse, and when she opened the door, she looked flushed and she blew air up her hair. "Come in…."
He smirked and closed the door. "Having fun…?"
"No, I already did that," she said, but then she scratched her hair. "I was… uh… testing… my uh… my strength."
"Aha," he said, grinning. "And?"
She looked very disappointed. "I think I need a few more days."
"There's no rush," he said, scanning the room.
"Of course there's a ru—"
"Do you have a spare drawer or something?"
Her eyes became big. "What?"
He took off his backpack. "Do you?"
She kept frowning in confusion, and pointed at a drawer.
"Excellent."
Night time, The Hawke Estate
Fenris was having a nice dream. He dreamt that Danarius was dead, and he was having a party, from which he himself ran away, because it was always better to be on a roof at night talking nonsense with Hawke. The other buildings were lit up in fairy lights like they used to do for the high holidays. She took him in a dance and he was happy, and free, and he loved spinning round and round for no real reason.
"Just like a child!" Hawke shouted gleefully.
"Just like a child!" Fenris agreed.
They danced stupidly for what seemed like an eternity worth freezing down into a snow globe. He swept her off her feet and took her downstairs—
And then the crying woke him up.
It was coming from the floor. She was down there, holding the bad drawings, and she was crying on them.
He did have the right feeling about those drawings. They must have been Devon's.
He didn't think he could say anything helpful, but he knew what she needed now. She just needed a hug.
He came down next to her, and brought her to him. He made sure to encase her as tightly as he could, and rocked her a little. He put his forehead down on hers, petted her hair, and hoped it would be enough. It was hard for him to see her like that. It cut deep into his heart, and he forgot everything else.
Hawke sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve like a fucking ten-year-old and then she came off him and chuckled. "Why… when have you gone topless… again?"
He forgot even his own pain.
"I get hot," Fenris said, smiling a little as he brushed her bangs.
"But doesn't it hurt?" Hawke said, touching him.
It did. He hissed and cowered. "It does now, but…" Fenris said, scratching his head. "In the moment, you were more important."
Noon, Fenris's Mansion
The next day, Bodahn and Sandal came back, so Fenris had his hands less full. He went to water his plants. He tried to listen again, but… it made him sad. He had no time for sadness anymore. Happiness was staring him in the window reflection. His face hurt from smiling so much. He sat down at his desk and opened the letter from Armand. The first page was a fake letter, saying:
My sexy animal,
I cannot wait to see you again and do that thing we did in my tent. Your arse is amazing. Ferelden is about to be covered in snow. Come by and I'll keep your thighs warm.
Armand
He chuckled. Of course he was a top. That might have gone one of two ways. Either she found it funny, or she really, really didn't.
Happy Bitch,
I am glad you see now. Ferelden is about to be covered in snow. It really is soft. Come by sometime. Word of warning—Zevran's annoyingness is inversely proportional to temperature.
Armand
That might have been true of anyone from the north of Thedas.
Armand,
If you have a boat… and nothing to do on the 27th, you could grab your posse and come to Kirkwall for my 30th. And I'm not saying bring the Hero of Ferelden, but if she likes shrimp and progressive music, that's the place to be.
HB
He went through his other mail. Merlin wrote him back saying, to his genuine surprise, that they were coming and if he had any song requests. He thought of Poppy. She must have been trained in classical music before all this. Alright then… he had some thinking to do.
Afternoon, Alienage
Fenris stood at the top of the stairs, sighing. This was the most depressing place in Kirkwall, and he'd seen the Bone Pit. Donnic let them know the integration campaign was put on hold following the terrorist attack, because Aveline was worried it would go wrong. It already was going wrong. The Guard basically had to move to the Alienage in response to all the hate crime.
But… at least they didn't look so scared of him. They barely looked at him, even. It was refreshing.
He went up three flights of crumbling stairs filled with screaming mothers and unruly children, and knocked on Lia's door.
"Who is it?" Elren's voice came through the door.
"I work with Hawke," Fenris said flatly.
"Hawke?" Elren said, opening the door. His face was all lit up. "Oh, I remember you. You helped save my little girl."
"Is she here?"
Save his little girl all he wanted, she was still his little girl. Elren crossed his arms and became bigger. "Why?"
"She is being considered for guardsmanship. I'd like to offer her training."
"Training?" Elren said gruffly. "Is that all?"
"That is all," Fenris said flatly.
"She's too young for you," Elren said threateningly.
"Incredibly so," Fenris agreed.
"You're not even a Kirkwaller."
"No."
"You don't even seem to have a personality."
Fenris swallowed his annoyance and sighed. "I am taken." Elren didn't budge. It wasn't enough, was it? Nothing would have been enough after what they've been through. If you had a penis, you were trouble. "By Hawke."
"Fine, then," Elren said, suddenly nonchalant. That was the only right answer, wasn't it? "Lia!"
She seemed taller, older. She was, of course, but it wasn't in the face. It was her eyes. They had pain he recognised from a mile away.
"Do you want to join the Guard?" Fenris said.
"Uhm… yes?" Lia said, scratching her head.
"I can teach you the basics so you make a good impression."
Deja-vu.
"Wow, really?"
"Really."
Fenris knocked on Merrill's door, contemplating leaving.
"What happened?!" Merrill said, her face white when she saw him.
Deja-vu.
"Nothing…?" Fenris said, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh," Merrill said, touching her chest. "Sorry. You just never come here. I thought the worst."
Fair enough.
"I have a request."
"You have a request?"
"Yes. I think it would mean a lot to Hawke and Varric if we all gathered and visited them. It doesn't have to be for long, just like five—" Wait a minute… This was Hawke and Varric, not him. "—Half an hour…"
"That's so… sweet," Merrill said, with a face reserved for solving paradoxes.
"Hanged Man. Six o'clock. Good day."
Fenris went to the Hanged Man, contemplating alcoholism.
"He's up there, whenever you're ready," Isabela said from the bar.
"Drink?" Fenris said.
Isabela frowned. "No one's playing today."
"A stout, please," he said to the bartender. He wanted to smash the bar picturing himself behind it.
"Are you afraid of him or something?" Isabela pushed.
Deja-vu. He gathered himself. Ha, he thought. Varric should be afraid of him.
"I have a request," he said.
"Oo, a request. Is it a naughty request?" she said, leaning on the bar. He was about to sigh, when she said, "Because in that case, I have to punch you. And not in a good way."
He frowned. "Is there a good way to be punched?"
"Of course," Isabela said gleefully, drinking.
That… made him feel better. He wasn't that depraved, after all.
He drank. "I was thinking it would make Hawke and Varric happy if we all visited them for a bit this evening. How's six?"
Isabela had the same face Merrill had.
"What?" Fenris said, annoyed.
"Nothing. I was just wondering if that Varterral gave you a brain injury."
"I'm fine."
Isabela chuckled. "Alright, then," she said in a happy, unconvinced tone.
Fenris went to Anders's clinic, contemplating suicide.
"What?" Anders asked flatly.
"I have a request."
"Denied."
Deja-vu.
"It is not for me."
"What does she need?" Anders said softly, changing face. A punchable face. It would be a good punch.
Fenris swallowed his violence and sighed. "I thought it would be nice if we all went to see Varric and Hawke for a bit this evening. Can you do six?"
Mother of Andraste, they all had the same face.
"That's… really nice of you," Anders said, crossing his arms.
"I'm starting to see a pattern here," Fenris said grumpily.
"What pattern?"
"You all think I'm an arsehole."
"You're just realising that now?"
"Hanged Man?" Fenris said impatiently.
Fenris went to the Chantry, contemplating buying an organiser.
Fortunately, Sebastian did not have that face. In fact, he had a very happy face. But now Fenris was wondering what was wrong with him.
"That is very kind, Fenris. I am pleased to see you like this."
Deja-vu.
"Like what?"
"Thinking of others."
"I think about others," Fenris said, offended. He thought about others. A lot of the time he thought 'When are they going to leave me alone?', but he thought about others!
"I know you do. I meant… showing that you think about others," Sebastian said, trying to be diplomatic.
"How is that any better?" Fenris said, raising an eyebrow. But… he had a point.
Sebastian chuckled, ignoring him. "I saw you here last week."
"I had a delivery to make."
"You were lighting candles."
"Yes. And?"
"And nothing. I am just pleased," Sebastian said with a big, annoying smile.
"Don't get used to it," Fenris said flatly. "I do not like this Chantry."
"If you have a spare minute, I'd be happy to hear why," Sebastian said, waving towards a bench.
Fenris scoffed. "How about two and half hours?"
Fenris went to the barracks, contemplating retirement. He did not knock. He hadn't knocked for years. This was a mistake.
Donnic was standing behind a seated Aveline, with a hand down under the desk. He went down and enthusiastically picked up a paper clip, while she cleared her throat.
"I have to knock from now on, don't I?" Fenris grumbled.
"You're a doll," Donnic said, tapping him on the shoulder and leaving.
"You're a doll!" Fenris said after him, glowering. He hated that expression.
"Fenris… testy as always," Aveline saluted him.
"Why haven't you come to see Hawke?"
"Why haven't you gone to see Varric?"
"I've had my hands full."
"Same here."
He tried not to smirk. "I think Donnic was the one with his hands full."
Aveline shot him a mean look. "Judgy, are we?"
"Pleased, in fact," Fenris said, sitting down and crossing his arms.
She smiled a little, which she tried to hide. "Well, good. I am pleased too," she said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her own arms.
"For me?"
"For both of you."
"You were rooting for us?"
"Of course."
"Hmph. That makes one of you."
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone seems to think I'm some heartless arsehole. Except Sebastian. But he doesn't count. He thinks everyone is secretly good or something."
Aveline cleared her throat. "Well," she said calmly. "I see their point."
"Do you?" Fenris said, glowering.
Aveline chuckled, opening her hands. "What do you want from me? You don't exactly radiate puppies and rainbows."
No muscle moved on his face. "I'm dark on the outside, colourful on the inside."
She snickered. "I know."
He raised an eyebrow. "What do you know?"
Aveline rolled her eyes tiredly. "We've had this conversation before."
Girls… talked. Why did he always forget that? Boys exchanged numbers of things they may have had sex on and/or with. There was no 'Her eyes sparkled bittersweetly as she told me her deepest wants and fears, and I felt like I was floating on a fucking cloud'. The thoughts were there though. They just weren't shared for fear of sounding like a little bitch.
"Nevermind," Fenris said, smirking. "I'm sure I sound incredible."
Aveline chuckled. "And modest," she said. "Did you hit your head or something?"
"A number of times, actually," he said, rubbing his head.
"So… you're living with her now?"
"No."
Aveline rubbed her forehead. "Do you see how incredibly stupid that is?"
"Why?" It wasn't stupid. It was very, very not stupid.
"You are squatting in a decrepit mansion."
"And?"
"And… don't you think living somewhere else might be nice?"
Fenris sighed in annoyance and adopted a sarcastic sing-songy tone. "It would be nice if I weren't hunted. It would be nice if I was never a slave. It would be nice if there was no racism, so I could actually rent an apartment somewhere not depressing."
"Fair…" Aveline said, her hands in an inverted V. "But there's no racism in House Amell."
"I am not ready to be House Amell."
Furthermore… he had a lot of sex on his future agenda, kinky or otherwise… so… no.
"No?" she said, pointing at his shield.
Fenris grunted and glowered. "Where is this coming from? I thought you were protective of Hawke."
"I am protective of Hawke," Aveline insisted, crossing her elbows on the table. She rubbed one arm. "But it seems I'm not the only one."
"Of course you're not the only one," Fenris said crossly.
"And she's getting a lot more attention lately. A lot of bad attention."
"I know."
"And so, it behoves me to entertain the very logical idea that she may benefit from a little more protection herself."
"Oh, I provide enough of that, believe me," Fenris said in annoyance. "Now explain to me what happened that night."
Aveline sighed. "Magistrate Cormac issued an emergency warrant, to search for Feynriel, since Hawke and the failed mansion raid placed the Templars under a lot more public scrutiny. Some people believed she was protecting him."
Fenris scoffed, but his heart became lighter. "He can keep searching."
"The Guard found nothing, so the case is closed," Aveline said, crossing her arms. But she looked guilt-stricken as the Void. "Thank you…"
"Thank you for my headache," Fenris said curtly, crossing his own arms. But he looked down, and softened. "You can always… count on me."
Aveline nodded. "You were sloppy, though. Brennan found the trap door and saw blue liquid down there."
"I assume that was not logged."
"It was. As 'assorted spilled alcohols'. There were all sorts of colourful bottles down there. Thank the Amells for being worldly alcoholics."
"Well… good."
Aveline nodded, looking down. She sighed. "And just like that, I am corrupt."
"You were corrupt from the very moment you became a Guard and did not report Hawke to the Templars," Fenris said flatly. He worded that poorly… He upset her. "But some rules are stupid rules."
It upset him too. Why did he have to bring that up? He felt like a complete hypocrite. How could he argue Circles were necessary when that very rule could have stripped him of the chance of ever meeting her? He'd always made the point that the rules did not apply to her, that she was special. That very reasoning made her hate him even more, once upon a time. And why wouldn't she? He was a hypocrite from the start.
Aveline sighed deeply. "I know. I hate that."
"I was…" Fenris said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was going to give you a gift. But then I remembered you hated gifts."
"Why would you give me a gift?"
"I… wanted to show you… that you mean something to me."
Aveline smiled a little. "Saying that was enough."
"Oh," he said, thinking. "I thought helping you and Donnic could have counted as a gift."
"Thank you," she said, nodding and smiling warmly. "Glad to see you returning the favour."
"What?" Fenris said, frowning.
Aveline's eye roll was almost scary. "Do you have any idea how many times I've had to 'magically' get pulled away on a job or 'find' something interesting to show people or start a 'conversation' at the table about something neither of you cared about just so you two could be alone?"
He pursed his lips. "A thousand?"
She raised her hands ceremoniously. "My job here is done."
The long road… was him and her. Poor Aveline.
"Thank you," he said, smiling a little. "I can take it from here."
"You better," she said, almost curtly. There was another violent eye roll. "If she comes to me crying because of you," she said, standing up and putting her arms widely on the desk, "I will make you cry. I will make you cry so hard you will cry blood, Fenris! Blood!"
Deja-fucking-vu.
"Stop saying blood!" Fenris said, frowning. But on the inside, he was terrified. Aveline had a whole desk in front of her, and she was still more chilling than a hundred little Hawke brothers.
Aveline calmly leaned back in her chair and intertwined her fingers. "Any other business?" she said in a deceptively soft tone.
He was going to spend the rest of the day waiting for his balls to drop.
"I thought it would make Hawke and Varric feel better if we all visited them for a bit. Hanged Man? Six o'clock?"
She didn't look surprised at all. "Of course."
Evening, The Hanged Man
"What's all this? I'm not dying! … Am I?" Varric said nervously, scanning the circle of people around his bed.
"Oh, please. I could probably put an axe through your head and you'd still make it out unharmed," Anders said, chuckling.
"He'd probably cut his own arm in the process," Fenris said, smirking.
"Or a testicle," Isabela said, snorting.
"You know, actually, that happened once," Anders said. "Before we had alchemy, surgeons just had to be really fast at amputating limbs, and this one guy was so incredibly fast he cut the patient's leg off in under two minutes. But he took his own testicle with it and an assistant's fingers, and a spectator was so horrified by the scene they died of fright."
Fenris laughed harder than the rest, so they looked at him.
"What?" he said, shrugging in his seat. "That could be him one day. It's nice to think about," he said, crossing his arms and legs.
Anders sighed. "I can't wait for the day I shall have to amputate you. It won't be my testicles you need to worry about."
"The only winning speedster here is Rivaini, because she can make a conversation about testicles in under two minutes," Varric said, rubbing his forehead.
"Thank you, thank you!" Isabela said, bowing.
"Are you feeling better, Varric?" Merrill asked at his bedside.
"Oh, I'm alright. This was a clear message from the Maker I need to stop avoiding my writing just because I can't finish a scene the way I want it to," Varric said, throwing his diary away lazily. "How's Hawke?"
"Surprisingly energetic for a sick person," Fenris said, snickering to himself.
"Did you have something to do with that?" Isabela said, winking.
Fenris watched Anders roll his eyes, so he put an arm at the back of his chair and decided to drive the scalpel in deeper, as slowly as possible. "I have my methods," he said in a calm, deep voice.
Anders snorted, crossing his arms. "What? Reciting angsty teenage poems written by moonlight in your broody fits?"
"No… but thank you for the suggestion," Fenris said confidently, pointing at him. He looked back at the others. "She likes poetry."
Merrill was melting, Isabela was dry-heaving, while Aveline was shaking her head in amusement. Sebastian looked like he wanted to marry him.
But then someone knocked on the door. Donnic came in standing next to Aveline.
"Donnic!..." Varric said in fake excitement. "Here to wish me a speedy recovery too?"
"I forgot to take your keys," Donnic said lowly to Aveline. "No, no, if anything, I wish you a slow recovery, so you keep on writing that serial," he said in a normal voice with a coy smile.
"Aww, look you guys, my fans are so caring!" Varric said sarcastically.
Aveline gave Donnic some keys. "Thanks, babe," he said, kissing her cheek and spanking her goodbye. He carried on whistling out the door, while everyone else, including Aveline, made owlish eyes. Donnic's whistling came back louder and his torso popped back in through the door. "Sorry. Still new to this boyfriend thing," he said with a charming smile, saluting.
"Looks like he's still new to being a human," Fenris said, smirking towards Varric.
But only the men laughed. The women were… giggling in approval towards Aveline.
"Nice catch, big girl," Isabela said.
Hmph. Donnic, Fenris thought, rolling his eyes. Since when was awkwardness sexy? In that case, Fenris should have been the sexiest man alive. Why did he even care? He didn't.
And so, in the spirit of not caring, Fenris decided he was going to be the king of boyfriends.
"I'll… catch up with you in a minute," Fenris said after the others as they went out the door.
"So…" Varric said, intertwining his hands. "How's life in House Amell…?" he said with an evil smile.
"Quite unaristocratic," Fenris said, sitting at his bedside.
"I heard you're not ready to live… 'unaristocratically'."
Fenris sighed. "Here we go…"
"There's nothing to go on about," Varric said, chuckling. "I think that was a smart decision."
Did Varric hit his head?
"Really?" Fenris said flatly.
"Of course," Varric said. "Rushing into things is a recipe for disaster. And I don't need another disaster right now."
"Andraste preserve me. A sensible man, at last," Fenris said, smiling a little.
"I'm one of a kind," Varric said with a smug grin.
"That you are, my friend," Fenris said. But in the next second, he became awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… heard some things about what you said… that night."
"My, my, gossip travels fast," Varric said nonchalantly.
"You should know," Fenris said, adjusting his glower to appear the least threatening.
"Alright, I guess I deserve that," Varric said, his palms raised in peace. "So, what can I do for you, messere?"
"I would… like to know… if the allegations may be true," Fenris said. This was so hard. He was more of a torture someone into a confession kind of guy. But this was Varric.
"That I'm totally and hopelessly in love with Hawke?" Varric said bluntly.
"Something to that effect, yes," Fenris said shyly.
Varric sighed heavily. "I wasn't talking to her… that night."
Fenris frowned and crossed his arms. "Who did you think you were talking to then?"
Varric stared at Fenris. Fenris stared at Varric.
"Come on, man…" Varric said in annoyance. "Don't make me say it."
"Oh…" Fenris said, thinking. "I see."
Deja-motherfucking-vu.
"So, you've got nothing to worry about."
"She reminds you of her?"
"What? No," Varric said defensively. "They are very different people."
"Who's Lady Marielle based on then?" Fenris said, chin in hand. He turned up the glower.
Varric cleared his throat. "Unimportant."
"Unimportant, you say…" Fenris said calmly.
"It's… uhm… you know…" Varric said nervously. "A mish-mash of people."
Fenris kept staring him down, but he decided it was enough. "Well… as long as there's nothing—"
"I mean, who doesn't have a little crush on Hawke when they first meet her?" Varric said defensively, chuckling.
Glower to a hundred.
"Yeah. Even you," Varric said, pointing at him.
"Incorrect," Fenris said quickly. Super incorrect. He had the opposite of a crush, in the beginning. He had a vendetta.
"Oh, pfft," Varric said derisively. "By month three you were salivating."
Did these people figure it out before he even figured it out?
"She's not everyone's cup of tea," Fenris said defensively.
"Yeah, no. The more you get to know her, the weirder she becomes. But some people don't mind weird, as long as it's done with confidence."
Good point…
She was the only person in his eyes who could make a pink floppy penis look charming on her.
"And your little crush is over, I presume," Fenris said.
"Long, long over," Varric said, slashing the air with his hands. "She's family."
"Good," Fenris said, smiling a little. He went into his pocket belt and fished out Varric's gift.
"That's a… pen," Varric said, confused.
"It's a magic pen."
"What kind of magic does it do? Does it make my enemies suffer when I write their names down?"
"I wish... It writes on its own via dictation."
"Holy shit!"
"It took a lot of searching on the black market, and a surprising amount of sovereigns."
"I've never heard of such a thing!" Varric said, examining it. "Looks a bit dwarven."
"It is a bit dwarven… and a bit Tevinter," Fenris said, crossing his legs. "More than that, I do not care to elaborate."
"Man…" Varric said happily. "This is gonna save me so much time! I can write wherever!"
"Enjoy," Fenris said, smiling a little.
"Thanks," Varric said, mirroring his shy smile. But then his gaze went just a little less than tyrannical. "When I first met you… I didn't like you."
"I'm aware of that…"
"But then we got to hang out and stuff."
"The Hanged Man. The Deep Roads. The Bone Pit. The ball," Fenris reminisced coldly, but his careful enumerations betrayed him. His eyebrow rose lazily. "Your birthday."
"It did not get better," Varric said sullenly.
Fenris was hurt, actually. They didn't get along like cupcakes on rainbows, but they went through a lot together. Varric became somewhat of a big brother to him, which was mighty ironic. He joked and stung and wanted you to believe his acts were perfunctory at best, but Varric had a big heart. It had room for all sorts of bozos and oddballs.
"Your constant bad temper, that gloomy scarecrow armour, and you're still walking around everywhere like you don't give two fucks about people," Varric complained.
Fenris felt like that was more than a reading. It felt like a prostate exam.
"But then I heard Blondie mention how badly you lost your shit that night," Varric said. "And it came as quite a shock to anyone anywhere that it had nothing to do with him whatsoever."
"You've seen me flip out before."
"Yeah, no, believe me, the bulky archive of events where you lost your cool out of petty rage or senseless jealousy is violently ingrained into my skull."
That was an entirely unnecessary taskforce of hurtful words, he thought.
"I was on the receiving end of a couple of those doozers, and I certainly don't remember asking for them," Varric continued.
Or… perhaps it was.
Varric changed his tone, and said, "But… I'm glad to see you have a heart in there after all. That you got these people together for me. Also, that you simply came to me and asked for clarification, instead of beating me up or something."
"I'm growing," Fenris said.
"You are, kid," Varric said, touching his shoulder. But he quickly raised his hand. "You do that now, right? You're not gonna glowfist my intestines out and give them to me or something."
"It feels like a special occasion," Fenris said, smirking a little as he put his own hand on Varric's shoulder.
"Hmph," Varric said. "You're kind of a softie, aren't you?"
"I trust you'll keep my secrets," Fenris said.
"Oh, I'll keep your secrets," Varric said. "I'll just change your name when I write this story."
Fenris scowled at him. "Which story?"
"Which story do you want to be in?"
"I would prefer to be in my own story," Fenris said. "But I will settle for being in Hawke's story."
"So, I'm keeping your name?"
"You better."
"Tell you what… I'll write you mostly as you are if I'm ever gonna start writing that book about Hawke properly. But I'll also make a character inspired by you in my new serial."
Fenris decided this was not the time to grill him over Ferris the bartender.
"You will consult with me on both of these endeavours."
"You got it."
"I finished Hard in Hightown."
"Only just?" Varric said, all hurt.
Fenris pursed his lips dejectedly. "I was ashamed to tell you, but I was never taught to read."
"Wait…" Varric said, narrowing his eyes. It seemed like a rollercoaster of awkward abstinence, avoidance and deflection around written materials on the part of Fenris bulldozed into his consciousness. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh."
"Hawke taught me, about a year ago," Fenris said shyly.
"What? And my chapters never made it into her curriculum?" Varric said, very offended.
"They should have," Fenris said, smiling a little. "It's an easy read."
"Hmph. Thanks."
"You will tear Hawke a new one when you recover, won't you?"
"Oh, and how."
They both chuckled, and it felt nice. It was all very nice. But then Varric's sunny disposition sauntered vaguely downwards. "If you break her heart, I'm gonna be very angry, kid. You don't want to see me angry."
And there it was. The next member of clan Hawke to threaten him with violence. Fenris was even more scared of Varric. He was never angry.
When the elf went out the door, Varric looked up at the painting Hawke gave him on what she called their 'friendshipversary'. It was of him in a big dwarven chair, looking all manly and sensitive. She was sitting horizontally on him with her arms around his neck in a display of affection that casted just a bit of doubt.
A corner of his mouth smiled. "Maybe in another life…"
Evening, The Hawke Estate
"I have a surprise for you," Fenris said, closing the door in her bedroom.
"What?" Hawke said excitedly.
"All your friends are here."
Hawke's excited smile died. That… what? That was supposed to make her happy! Instead, she jumped out of bed like it had rats in it and bulldozed straight into her vanity table.
"What is happening…?"
"Can't talk. In the zone," Hawke said, painting her lips.
Fenris chuckled and leaned back against her vanity table, crossing his arms. "So… how come you didn't do that for me?" he teased her.
She glowered at him sideways.
"It's for Aveline, isn't it? You lied to me. You never got over your crush. That's why you were so terrible at getting them together."
She elbowed him in the pancreas, his head falling in laughter.
"Oof, that eyebrow's a little crooked, don't you think?" he said, his finger going close to it. She slapped his hand back so hard he almost hit himself in the face with it. He was on the floor.
Then suddenly, the sense of deja-vu felt stronger. Why did they have to ruin his fun…?
"Hawke," Aveline said, sitting by her bedside and hugging her. She kept a hand over her shoulder. The rest gathered around the bed. Fenris stood by on the other side with his arms crossed. "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier."
"So, very sorry," Fenris said in an exaggerated, sarcastic tone. "There were tears, too."
"Hey, Vain Vint," Aveline said with the kind of chilling rage that threatened she had enough knowledge to bury him alive. "Remember what I said about tears?"
It was like she took him by the collar of his deja-vu and beat her own deja-vu into him while everyone watched.
Nope… Fenris thought. His balls still hadn't dropped from this afternoon. So, he looked away and cleared his throat.
Also… when did 'nope' enter his vocabulary? Damn it, Hawke. She corrupted him.
Or inspired you, a part of him thought.
Damn it, Hawke… Being with her had a price. It was the price of walking down the street with his heart out, whether he wanted to or not. And the more he did, the more it was obvious he was in two minds about everything. People seemed to be horrified when they saw his "other face". The nice face.
He felt crazy. But another part of him thought… no. You are completely sane. Everyone is in two minds, three minds, ninety-nine minds about everything. We're just monkeys with anxiety. Chill out and enjoy the ride.
He looked at Hawke. She was talking all smug and dramatic about her winning strategy in the Lowtown side alley.
He watched her, smiling warmly. She had inspired that other side of him. Just like art had, once upon a time. He looked at a window, seeing his reflection. It felt like he was back in the castle, watching out from a window, filling his mind with silly imaginations to keep up his sanity. Besides your master's drunken political rambling, art was the second easiest knowledge to obtain as a house slave. It made his mind run wild, free. Knowing Hawke so intimately now, she was a walking piece of art to him. He looked at the windowsill, and imagined a big, long, braided red tail jumping to his rescue, and he laughed inside. She wasn't a princess, and he wasn't a handsome hero. He was a handsome prince, living behind bars of his own mind, and she was the lunatic hero that saw through them.
And just like that… the feeling of deja-vu overwhelmed him. He felt dissociated, the world unreal, the people in front of him not who he knew them to be. The tall plants in the room felt like giant trees. The red hair on those human women, it felt important to him. The black human woman felt familiar, her slightly muscular arm. The staff top on the blonde man wrapped in plant crap felt like a thousand arguments. The dark-haired elven woman felt like someone was stabbing him right in the heart.
"Excuse me," Fenris said, circling around them.
"You okay, Fen Fen?" Hawke said after him.
"Fen Fen?" Isabela said, breaking into cackles.
"That's adorable!" Merrill said.
"I'm fine," Fenris said in the doorway. But he wasn't. "I just have to check something."
He went into the next room he saw, sitting down on the bed and trying to steady his breathing. His heart was pounding in his ears. He looked in the mirror on the vanity table, and he could swear he had dark hair for a second. He felt like he was about to fall upwards any minute now and leave this unreal world behind.
There was a note stuck to the mirror, which slowed down time. He went up to inspect it. It had a silly doodle of a red-headed man in a robe enthusiastically kissing the cheek of a grumpy brunette woman in a dress. It read, Things are terrible, but… I am here! (Somewhere… Probs cellar).
Oh, shit. It smelled really nice in here. This was… Leandra's room. Shit! This was Leandra's room! He needed to get out of here immediately!
Malcolm Hawke… he thought. Thank you for bringing me back to reality. He went out, and in the doorway, looked at her parents one more time. Thank you for everything.
When people left, Fenris took Hawke up on her own roof. It wasn't as great as his roof, that was for sure. He pushed the candle farther away from them so nobody caught on fire.
"Thanks for bringing them here, Fen Fen," Hawke said, cuddling him.
"You're welcome," Fenris said, playing with her fingers.
"New habit?" she said, raising an eyebrow.
"It's fun," he said, raising her arm and letting it flop down.
Her inner brows sloped upwards in amusement. "You're so weird."
Fenris raised her arm again, so it would fall straight on his head. "The weirdest."
Hawke chuckled warmly and petted his hair. She looked at the Keep. "Well, this roof is shit. I like your roof better. Your roof is the roof to beat."
"Stop saying roof," he said, amused.
"Roof roof!" she barked, coming out of the cuddle. "Oh, no… wait… yep, yep, we have a glower!"
"Grrrrr," he said grumpily.
"Seriously though."
"It's not big enough. But at least you have a grandiose view of the Keep."
"Yeah, 'cause that's what I need in my quiet periods of introverted rumination!" she said dramatically, arms all raised. "A reminder of everything's that's wrong with politics today!
"Well… think of it as your best friend's house."
"You make a good point." She looked at the Keep and drank her warm tea. "I'm surprised you did all this."
"Did you think I was going to be bad at this boyfriend thing?"
"Yes?"
"Well… I appreciate honesty, but that hurt."
"I'm sorry for doubting you, Fen Fen."
He nodded slowly, smiling. "Thank you."
"I'm wrong about so many things. I'm unreliable, really."
"Well… you can always…" he said, tapping his shoulder suggestively, "…lean on me."
"Aww," she said, starting to lean on him. He went out of the way and made her fall. "You're a little shit!" he heard her say behind him as he laughed.
"I am the worst," Fenris said, chin in hand. "Also incredibly smart, handsome, good with my hands. An erotic god, essentially."
"Pff-whoa," Hawke said, coming up. "Are you high?"
His eyebrows went up nonchalantly. He shifted his seat to hug her from behind. "Nope..."
"Nope?" she said, looking at him as if he was crazy.
His eyebrows stayed high and tired, thinking. "Yup..."
Her hand went to his eye, opening it wide. "You gotta be at least a little high."
"Shut up."
"Nope."
"Yes."
"Nope!"
"Yes."
"Make m—!"
Fenris moved her face backwards to him and kisser her. He pulled down on her jaw and put his tongue in her mouth. She liked that. The wind blew in their hair towards the Keep, and she strangled him a little with her arms. Exposing herself to attack like that, he clawed and squeezed her breasts and ran his hands down her hips and pulled on her panties.
She turned completely facing him, away from the city, her thighs going at each side next to his. She kissed him, her hands went into his pants and she bit his lip, rubbing him up and down. He kissed her harder, and the line between his tongue and hers was obliterated. So was most of reality.
"There's another reason my roof is shit," Hawke said, squeezing him harder towards the top.
He moaned. He was a moaner, apparently.
"Why…?"
"It's not high enough. Not… intimate enough," she said, rubbing his cock along her covered pussy.
He needed… so much air.
"What do you think?" she said, raising a sultry eyebrow. "Wanna try a low-level exercise downstairs?"
He had no idea what she was talking about. What was a 'level', 'exercise' or 'downstairs' even?
"Do you want me to suck your cock downstairs?" Hawke said bluntly.
He must have looked like a fucking idiot.
"Yes," Fenris said.
Fenris sat down at the edge of the bed while Hawke closed the door. She grinned widely when he took his cock out and she took off her pajama top.
"Take your bra off," he said.
"Don't tell me what to do," she said, kicking his legs wider apart.
"Not in the mood for that?"
She took his cock and rubbed it again along her crotch. If he had other philosophical questions, he forgot them.
"I'm always in the mood for that," she said, smirking and kneeling. She rubbed her hands along his thighs and took him in her mouth, and he was flying.
The wind of pleasure took him back on his elbows, and he watched her eagerly. She would do it slowly, deliciously, her lips kissing it from time to time, licking along it. It was very, very nice.
He felt a loud moan coming when she took him all in, and he bit that moan down as much as he could. He pulled her hair in the process. He pulled her up and down and oh, the sweet, unbearable sensations. He didn't notice when her bra came off, but there they were, coming between his cock in her hand.
This could not possibly get any better, Fenris thought. This was amazing. This was… why did she stop?
"Why did you stop?" he asked, containing his outrage.
She pursed her lips nonchalantly, shrugging. "I'm tired," she said, kissing his cock. She went past him on the bed.
He couldn't accept that. He pulled down her trousers, turned her around by the hips and sat on her chest. "That's alright…" he said softly, brushing his cock on her lips. "How's that?"
She grinned, bit her lip. She grabbed his thighs and licked him. Perfect. He breathed, took his sweater off. Her eyes flickered as she sucked him, and her hands went up on his abdomen.
He hissed a little, vibrated.
"Are you—"
"Don't stop," Fenris said, breathing. Pleasure helped. It really helped. He grabbed a roof handle, and grinded slowly into her mouth. Her hands brushed up and down his abdomen with much desire. He tried to focus on the good. The very, very good. She looked so fucking beautiful.
He looked up in the mirror and felt like a million sovereigns. He looked at her legs, how one of them bent down over the other and he leaned back. His free hand went to her clitoris, and the more he rubbed, the harder she sucked him. His fingers went faster, and she took him with both hands and—
His eyes became big, feeling the boom. "Visha… venh… fuck!" he said, his head falling back and gasping as his nerve endings electrocuted him and his cum shot in her mouth.
She licked him dry. How nice of her. He should be nice too.
He came off her and planted his head between her thighs.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes—" she said, moaning as he slid his fingers inside her. She pushed her pussy into his mouth. He loved that. She was already there. A few more hits and she was done, her shaking thighs coming together and almost suffocating him.
He looked up, breathing, and he wiped his mouth. "That was incredible."
"Uh huh…" she said, breathing.
He went up beside her, and they both took a minute to breathe.
"I could put you into a coma with a massage," he said. Why did he say that? He was done.
"Aren't you going into a coma already?" she said, chuckling.
"I apologise in advance if I fall asleep on you."
"Aww. How nice. Can you be any better?"
"I don't know," he said, smirking as he turned her around. "Can I?"