Morning, The Hawke Estate
Another cold morning, and Lolly tipped her hat off to Aveline. She came in wearing her long blue coat, and civilian armour, for once.
She was all packed and ready. Donnic… was pending.
Hawke was in the main hall, in an armchair at a coffee table by the fireplace. She had armour parts over a dark green turtleneck jumper and dark trousers. The coat on her armchair looked black with white fur piping, as well as red and green Fereldan embroideries. She seemed to be brooding and staring at a wall.
"Morning," Aveline said in the doorway.
"Perfect," Fenris said behind the wall, startling her. He was not at all dressed appropriately to leave. "Stay there for a moment."
"Okay?" Aveline said with a raised eyebrow.
He pressed something behind an end table and, immediately, an infernal sound punched Aveline in the brain and she found herself behind bars, front and back. She looked down, a pressure plate under her boot.
Fenris looked real proud of himself.
"Nice job, Fen Fen," Hawke said, coming forward. She had a shit-eating grin as she crossed her arms. "How does it feel to be behind bars, Captain?"
"Like I've done something wrong," Aveline said with half-lidded eyes. "In a past life, perhaps?"
"Following me in this one was your mistake," Hawke said with a smile.
Fenris scoffed, going back to the end table to free her. "You atheists and your past lives." He pushed something, and the bars retracted into the walls. "You get one life, then you're worms. End of."
Hawke guffawed, showing Aveline to the coffee table. "Thus spoke the 'Andrastian'!"
"I know I'm going to the Void," Fenris said aloofly, going to another wall with a plan in his hand. "There's no use sugar-coating it."
"You're too hard on yourself, Fenris," Aveline said, sitting down.
"So I keep telling him," Hawke said with a sigh, pouring Aveline some coffee. "And you."
Aveline chuckled softly. "It falls on deaf ears all the same, doesn't it?"
"The ears are starting to hear," Hawke said with a proud smile, hand under her chin. "I'm magic like that."
"The ears are starting to hear…" Fenris said grumpily from afar.
Hawke sent him an air kiss. He smiled and blushed.
"Well…" Aveline said, smiling in amusement. "Looks like you two made up."
"Was there ever any doubt?" Hawke said suavely.
"Donnic is not with you?" Fenris said, coming to them.
"He's in the barracks," Aveline said, unaffected. "Probably putting clothes on…"
Fenris looked at her sideways. "Good point," he said, going up the stairs.
"Boo…" Hawke pouted, drinking her coffee.
"I've heard what happened with Anders," Aveline said, crossing her legs. "Are you alright?"
Hawke made no effort to conceal her emotions. "I'm very worried."
"As you should be," Aveline said. "Demons play with your mind so easily."
"Only if you let them," Hawke said with half-lidded eyes.
Aveline scowled at her.
"I'm sorry…" Hawke said, looking down. "I know this is hard for you. But it is the truth. Mages know it from childhood."
"It's a lot to expect of children," Aveline said, crossing her arms.
"It is," Hawke said, nodding pensively. "It's not fair. But it is what it is. You need to become an expert of the mind. Of your own mind. You need to know yourself in and out." She looked at her. "Lack of self-awareness is reserved for the privileged."
"Get off your high horse, Hawke," Aveline said sternly. "We all have blind spots. One of yours has become blindingly apparent, for that matter."
"Here we go…" Hawke said, sighing.
"I know you feel for his plight because you're a mage," Aveline said. "But how long before this sympathy gets the better of you?"
"I'm watching him," Hawke said, glowering.
"I'm watching you," Aveline said nonchalantly.
A sadness filled Hawke's eyes. She avoided her gaze at first. "Thank you."
"Morning," Donnic's voice came from behind. He was wearing a brown leather jacket and civilian armour.
"Did you remember to take the seal of the City Guard with you?" Aveline said.
Donnic revealed it on his belt. "Yes, mother," he said sarcastically.
"Kinky," Hawke butted in.
"Sorry," Aveline said, ignoring her. "I'm just a little stressed."
"Oh, no, no," Donnic said, bending down to kiss her cheek and rubbing her shoulders. "You're not allowed to be stressed."
"I am Road Trip God and I concur. We accept 'having fun', 'charmingly effusive' or 'chill'," Hawke said with a raised index finger.
"I will go with 'chill'," Fenris said at the top of the stairs, with more layers on. His boots stomped with every step down. "The rest sound like effort."
"Who ordered the elven mountain?" Donnic said, chuckling.
"No one orders this mountain," Fenris said, hands in his coat pockets.
Hawke stood up, putting her head on his shoulder and an arm over his waist. "You catch more flies with honey," she said.
Donnic tried not to chuckle as he looked down. "New boots?"
Fenris pursed his lips, looking down at his feet and brushing the back of Hawke's hair. "Sometimes the fly is distracted."
Afternoon, South Coast Rest Stop
The carriage drivers stopped a few of hours away from Ostwick. It was amazing how much quicker everything moved on a main trade route. On the right, the silvery sea and cold pebble beaches were shining far away between the trees, while on the left, the Vinmark Mountains towered majestically above them, wearing hats of snow and the latest autumn fashion.
The forested path was booming with life and harvest stalls. There was a statue of Andraste holding a sword, and a little shrine for travellers.
Fenris got out first, for some reason. He kept doing that whenever they took breaks, and walked in front of her.
"So… care to tell me about this… yet another new habit of yours?" Hawke said.
"What?" Fenris said, as if he had no idea what she meant.
"You keep fronting," Hawke said with raised eyebrow.
"Safety first," Fenris said flatly.
"Uhh… I'm the tank," Hawke said, crossing her arms.
"That's cute," Aveline said from the carriage. "I'm the tank."
"You're barely ever with us, Captain," Hawke said. She looked back at Fenris. "It kind of undermines my role if you're in front of me."
"Think of me as a scout," Fenris offered.
"And what are you scouting?" Hawke said, laughing.
Fenris looked at the market stalls, and lowered his voice, "For instance, there is a Dalish man here wearing Keeper robes. Templars could be near."
"And if they are, they'll be looking for him," Hawke said, chuckling. "Why so paranoid?"
"Take me as I am, Hawke," Fenris said with a glower.
Hawke pursed her lips, and hugged him. "I appreciate your protectiveness."
"You're welcome," Fenris said, brushing the back of her hair.
Aveline smiled at Donnic inside the carriage, unbeknownst to them.
"Cute, aren't they?" Donnic said.
"It's not that," Aveline said, still smiling. "I'm just… happy for her."
"Your affections know no bounds," Donnic said, smiling back.
"In a manner of speaking," Aveline said, brooding. She started getting out. "Come on. Let's live a little."
"Shame it never snows in the Free Marches," Hawke said, looking up at the mountains.
"Feeling homesick?" Aveline said, scanning her Fereldan coat.
"A little," Hawke said, hands in pockets.
"It did snow once when I was a boy," Donnic said, coming too. "And another time during the troubles."
"Hmm," Hawke said, thinking. "Dress Donnic up as a little boy and assassinate a city ruler…" She smiled evilly towards the others. "Ostwick's not that far away."
"Not on my watch, Hawke," Aveline said, laughing.
"If I ever touch real snow, I shall die a happy man," Fenris said.
"Real snow?" Aveline said, raising an eyebrow. "As opposed to…?"
Fenris shrugged. "A man can dream."
"Can he?" Aveline said with sympathetic smile, rubbing his shoulder.
"It's been known to happen," Fenris said, smirking in Hawke's direction.
"You could go to Ferelden," Aveline said, leaving to browse. "You'll be sick of snow in no time."
"I suppose…" Hawke said, going to a harvest stall. "But what do I have to return to in Ferelden?"
"You're still in touch with some people in New Lothering," Fenris said, brushing her bangs. "Plus, some friends in Amaranthine..."
"This is true," Hawke said, smiling to herself.
"Although, knowing you, you'd be returning to Kirkwall in an urn…" Fenris said, raising an eyebrow.
"Why?" Hawke said, laughing.
"You have a terminal case of hero worship," Fenris said.
"That… is also true," Hawke said, chuckling.
"Perhaps you should practice your… 'chill' face," Fenris said, scanning a potato in his hand.
"Perhaps. But not now. Now I'm on vacation," Hawke said, putting a sweet pepper on her head.
"You never know…" Fenris said nonchalantly.
"Forgive me for eavesdropping," the Dalish man said. He had green eyes, black hair and a square jaw. His vallaslin were a rarer sight. Half dark, half light. Elgar'nan's markings, if she wasn't mistaken. By his robes and age, he could have been a First or Second to the Keeper. "You're Fereldan, aren't you?"
"Proudly," Hawke said.
"My name's Lavellan," he said with a slight bow. "There are great admirers of the Hero of Ferelden amongst the Dalish. Perchance, do you know her?"
"I'm Hawke. But no, sorry," she said with a chuckle. "I wish."
"Keep your distance," Fenris said coldly.
"Don't mind him," Hawke said with a smile.
"The human is friendlier to the Dalish than his own blood," Lavellan said, raising an eyebrow. "Fascinating."
"What's fascinating is that you care for the earth, but worship a god of wrath and vengeance," Fenris said, glowering.
"There are gods that look after every aspect of life, friend," Lavellan said, crossing his arms.
"Then there is the god that rules over them all," Fenris said, unimpressed "A tyrant who can't control his own emotions. What kind of example does that set for people?"
Lavellan scoffed, crossing his arms. "Your god abandoned the world. Talk about a bad role model."
Something about how Lavellan said it made Fenris angry. "Better to leave than to stay and be terrible."
"I've not heard that apologetic before," Lavellan said, thinking. "Well done," he said sarcastically. "At least it's not boring."
"I don't give a shit about the Maker," Fenris said. "Merely I agree with his choice of replacement. Andraste was mother to all, and she fought and died for our freedom."
Lavellan squinted and smiled. "Well… you can debate about religion all day long," he said, taking an apple from the stall and paying for it. "But I won't join you," he said, taking a bite and leaving. "Life's just too short for that."
Fenris scoffed after him. "He'd make a shit Keeper."
"You hate Elgar'nan now?" Hawke said with a raised eyebrow.
"I don't care a fig for him," Fenris said, crossing his arms.
"I thought you'd like him," Hawke said awkwardly. "Isn't his vengeance thing kind of… your thing?"
Donnic whistled in the distance. "Barbecue stall!"
A flash of pain moved through Fenris. He felt insulted. "No…" he said acidly, throwing the potato in her hand, and he was gone. The sweet pepper fell off her head.
Hawke watched him go, and brooded for a while. He didn't like being angry. He didn't like being resentful. He didn't like being hateful. Nowadays, they'd go to Mistress Selby helping apostates, framing Templars, and he wouldn't even bat an eye. Perhaps that's why it hurt him so much that he wanted to leave, when she called him what she called him. He wasn't that man anymore.
Hawke got herself a veggie sandwich and walked over to the crew sitting around the carriage. She chewed nonchalantly as she watched them bellyaching and/or barely able to keep their eyes open.
"Look at you, oldies," she teased them. "You look tired."
Donnic opened his eyes sleepily, blinking.
"Shut up," Aveline said curtly.
"It's from the meat," Fenris said, his voice rising just the slightest bit. "It is the slowest thing to digest."
"Aww, did I touch a nerve?" Hawke said with a smug smile, taking another bite of her sandwich.
"You've got two years left, little girl," Aveline said, arm over her raised knee. "Enjoy them."
Hawke scoffed. "I have plenty of years to enjoy, thank you very much," she said confidently, hand on her chest. "I'm young at heart."
Fenris scoffed in amusement. "Confirmed."
"I can just see you now—surrounded by grandchildren and still sporting pigtails," Aveline said, laughing.
"Someone needs to keep up our spirits!" Hawke said with her mouth full. "It won't be you grouches."
Aveline and Fenris looked at each other.
"I'm no grouch," Donnic said softly, shrugging. "I'm just a chill guy."
"Respect," Hawke said, chewing and fist-bumping him. "But chill can't cheerlead."
"You'd… be surprised," Fenris said, giving him a little smile.
Donnic nodded modestly.
"Aww," Hawke said to Aveline, hand on her chest. "Look at these two."
"It's been a nice surprise," Aveline said with a smile.
"I'm smelling a bromance," Hawke said, squinting.
Donnic pursed his lips and looked away, while Fenris cleared his throat.
"Just… regular friendship," Fenris said.
"A regular, manly friendship," Donnic added with a fist.
"Of course," Aveline said, laughing and rolling her eyes.
"What does that even mean?" Hawke said with a chuckle.
"It means no friendship bracelets," Fenris said.
Aveline scoffed in amusement. "Where do I sign up?"
"Don't lie, Aveline," Hawke said. "You're a big softie. You always have been!"
"She does keep all your gifts around," Donnic said.
Aveline hit him on the arm.
Donnic laughed. "Oops."
"So does Fenris," Aveline said defensively, pointing at him. "He's got a whole damn memory shrine!"
"Yes, quite the shocker," Fenris said sarcastically, undaunted. "The man with amnesia treasures his memories."
"Wait, what?" Donnic said, his eyes widening.
A soft silence filled the space.
"I don't remember anything from before the ritual that gave me my markings," Fenris said, as if it wasn't a big deal. "Whatever life I had before nineteen, it's gone now."
Hawke disagreed. Furthermore, she had been thinking this through in the back of her head. He mentioned having feelings of deja-vu, which she initially thought was just a natural consequence of being more in touch with his feelings. But suddenly he did not want to talk about them anymore. It touched a nerve when she inquired about them.
He'd also been softer on himself, and he seemed happy, and yet his night terrors were getting worse. In what world did that make sense?
There is a monster… he is unhappy with the changes, she remembered Fenris saying.
Did the monster come out to play? Was that why he was so shaken, why the knots came back, why he ended up on her bloody bench? Was the monster like Vengeance, trying to protect him from something? Vulnerability? Love? Happiness? Perhaps all of it.
It just made no sense to her. He was a man utterly attached to the notions of home and family, and yet he had given up his search for answers completely after coming to Kirkwall. That empty chest had struck his empty chest.
Either way, she felt uneasy. She wanted to help him, but he wasn't letting her. She didn't know what to do but trust he would naturally come to the right conclusion, in time.
Donnic stared at him. "Bruh…"
"Bruh?" Hawke said, laughing.
"I will translate now," Fenris said with a smirk. "That means, 'Shit got serious and I don't know what to say'."
"Yeah, that… really sucks. I'm sorry," Donnic said with a hand on his shoulder.
"I've made my peace with it," Fenris said aloofly.
Hawke tried not to let her eyebrows react, because he was fooling no one.
"But there are other ways to find out, right?" Donnic said. "Like a census, maybe?"
Go Donnic! Hawke thought.
"I don't remember any names," Fenris said.
"Sure, but don't Tevinters keep record of everything? You're Seheroni, and I can count on my fingers how many freakishly tall elves I've seen in my life," Donnic said, holding up one finger.
"My height is normal," Fenris said defensively. "Most elves are underdeveloped due to centuries of hardship."
"And yet you're from Seheron, the hardest place of all," Hawke said, thinking.
"Maybe I'm from another planet," Fenris said tiredly.
"It would explain a lot," Aveline said, smirking.
Fade Time 1 ÷ 0, Insula Fantoma
Along the string of faded violets, the spirits flew for what a mortal would call an eternity, or five minutes, depending on who you asked.
They passed the verdant jungles of mainland Seheron, haunted by huge strains of emoton, flashes of anguish and hopelessness, of apathy and hate. But it wasn't the whole story. There were souls here, many souls shining bright with hope and love and courage. But as they crossed the sea, the lights began to wither…
The fog swallowed them as they held tightly to the string.
It was a land governed by old, wandering spirits, reshaping the Fade with memories of times long gone. They could see Elgar'nan's fortress tall and translucent, a procession of elves going up the stairs.
They drew in closer, and through the glass, they could see the soldiers gathering around the replica of the sun, the memory of Elgar'nan climbing towards it. He was a tall man in imposing ceremonial armour, with long, white hair and a permanent scowl on his face. He went inside the sun, lifeless bodies made out of clay waiting for him. The memory of old spirits flew above them.
"Elgara solas," Elgar'nan chanted with the old spirits and the soldiers, which the watchers understood to mean, "Let the sun rise."
Elgar'nan drew in magic from the rest of the elves and the sun sphere blazed alight, the rays refracting through the glass. Slowly, the bodies began to move, Rhys among them, hugging themselves in their nakedness.
"He was… he was a man?" Kiss said, dumb-founded.
"I told you," Melancholy said.
"But not mortal," Firefly said, her eyes fix on the bodies. "Nor is our friend, it seems."
"What have we gotten ourselves into…?" Rainbow said glumly.
The light left the sun.
"Elgara vallas," Elgar'nan said, which the Kirkwall spirits understood to mean, "Let the sun set."
Elgar'nan cut into his hand, and went to each and every one of them, touching their faces with his blood. "Ma garas mir renan," he said, as the blood shaped itself into ornate markings on their faces. The spirits understood, "Follow my voice."
"Mir vallaslin'an," Elgar'nan said, as the markings sealed themselves in. The spirits understood, "In my blood writing."
The newly living elves bowed to him.
"Andaran atish'an, da'len," Elgar'nan said. "You shall protect this place with your life. The fortress and the island, but especially Asha'suledin."
"Yes, master," they said.
"Who is Asha'suledin?" Rhys said.
"She is my daughter, my greatest treasure," Elgar'nan said, showing off the grand veins of lyrium on the back wall of the fortress, leading into an iron maiden standing tall above them. There were smaller veins ramifying inside the sarcophagus. "The Woman Who Endures."
"What does she endure, master?" Rhys said.
The lyrium veins were enormous, almost breathing.
"Such curiosity, already," Elgar'nan said proudly. "She endures in her search for a truly strong man, who can endure her himself."
Rhys was completely at a loss for why Elgar'nan saw a lifeless object as a daughter, but he did not question. "No such luck, master?"
"No such luck," Elgar'nan said, disappointed as he looked up at Asha'suledin. "Through her runs the blood of a titan. All who enter her perish. She saw them as weak and unworthy. But I shall find the strongest man to endure her."
"Isn't that you, master?" Rhys said nonchalantly.
Elgar'nan walked over to him, looming over him. "What is your name?"
"Atish'an," Rhys said, meaning 'peace'. "Although… I think I'm not me anymore."
Elgar'nan struck him. "There is no place for peace! We are at war! I shall have my perfect champion!" he said angrily. "Do you think you have what it takes… Rhysandril?" It meant 'the feisty one'.
"I will try, master," Rhys said.
"Trying is for the doubtful and the weak," Elgar'nan said, showing them out.
Afternoon, South Coast Rest Stop
Hawke decided to 'keep up their spirits' with a game of tag. Fenris was confused.
They removed their armours and Fenris abandoned his boots. Aveline gladly made herself "it" and chased them through the meadow of red, green and gold. Hawke was fast. Fenris was uncapturable. Donnic was sweet on her; low-hanging fruit.
"Tag, you're it!" Aveline said, spanking him in her run.
Donnic almost had Hawke but she kicked some leaves up with the back of her boot and ran for it. Then, suddenly, Fenris tapped his shoulder. Donnic turned around and tried to grab him, but his hand went straight through him.
"Better luck next time," Fenris said with a smirk, running away.
"That's cheating!" Donnic said in frustration. He looked at Aveline resting on a tree stump. "It's cheating, right?"
"Seconded," Aveline said.
"Thirded!" Hawke shouted from afar.
"Fine…" Fenris said.
"That's it," Donnic said, fist in his hand. "I'm channelling my inner Guard."
"For the City Guard!" Aveline rallied.
"I'll show you how we do it back in Kirkwall!" Donnic howled, running after him.
Fenris's smirk died. Donnic meant business.
He became so focused on Fenris, Hawke was just walking around the meadow shrugging at Aveline. A few chases and circles later, Fenris climbed up a tree.
"Hey, no trees!" Donnic said.
"No one said anything about trees," Fenris said nonchalantly.
"Get down here, motherfucker!" Donnic said, climbing up the tree.
Fenris laughed and jumped into another tree.
"This guy, I swear!" Donnic said angrily.
He attempted the jump and caught onto the branch, but Fenris did not move. Donnic pulled on his jumper.
"Tag… you're it?" he said, confused.
Fenris woke from his trance. "Venhedis," he said.
"And then there were two," Aveline said. "Who will win?"
Fenris jumped down. "I will," he said darkly.
Hawke was on the other side of the meadow, laughing nervously. She was gone.
"Let's get some mulled wine," Aveline said with half-lidded eyes. "I have a feeling this will drag out."
Hawke got distracted running into the forest, and forgot which way was which. She couldn't explain it. She just saw his tall, robust figure in the sun as he took to running and his eyes said trouble. She just ran long without much thought or plan. She wanted to make a turn and circle the meadow around, but Fenris was on her tail and she kept running.
She made a turn and looked behind. He had stopped, eyeing her with unsettling calm. "You're getting tired, Hawke…"
He was right. He stampeded along the leaves and caught up to her in no time. She circled around a tree, changed direction, then kept swirling through more trees. He was too fast!
Something happened to Fenris. He was a very happening man.
He was a master at running away, and it had served him well, for the most part… But finding himself into a hunter role, his body took over in a wholly new and primal way.
It knew exactly what to do.
Calm as a lake, but on fire within, he ran after her, her red hair flying, her coat ballooning in the wind. He was going to catch her. He was going to have her.
Hawke's heart was pounding inside her chest and she could feel every inch of it. Every step of hers, a hope; every step of his, a horror.
His sounds were sharp and controlled, while she was running out of breath.
Before she knew it, she tripped on a little hill and she felt her coat getting yanked. The ground came soon after, and she was crushed by his weight. With feline grace, he locked her wrists together and sat on top of her. He came down, but his lips didn't touch her.
"I've got you now…" Fenris said in a deep voice, his grin reserved for professional predators.
"Well done…" Hawke said with half-lidded eyes.
She felt a volcanic passion in him suddenly, and she could scarce remember where she was. His hands went off her wrists and grasped her breasts hard, his tongue in hers.
"Maybe we should try this at home…" Hawke said with a flirty eyebrow.
"Maybe…" Fenris said softly with half-lidded eyes. He stood up and gave her his hand.
She took it and she could see he was still enamoured with the moment. She kissed him, one hand in his hair, the other on his arse. Both of his hands came down upon her bum like it was made for him.
"By the way…" she said, brushing up the bulge in his trousers as he gave a little gasp. "You forgot to say, 'Tag, you're it'," she said, pushing him down the hill.
She ran for it.
Hawke went into a bushier side of the forest, ran past a huge tree with a hollow at the bottom, then ran back to it. Fenris wasn't in sight. She went inside, climbing up on the bark and holding still.
Moments passed and she heard his footsteps coming. They stopped.
Somehow… he knew.
"You can run, but you can't hide…" he said in a taunting voice.
She shivered silently, swallowing the sound.
The sound of his footsteps going onwards calmed her down. She counted to sixty, then came out. The sight of him startled her, leaning on the tree with his arms crossed. She screamed despite herself and held her chest.
"A failed, but interesting tactic," Fenris said, his head slightly bowed to the side as he looked up at her with a scorpionic gaze.
"Thanks," Hawke said, still holding onto her chest with her eyes closed.
She felt his hand pulling her to him in a hot embrace. He pushed her up against the tree. "Tag, you lost," Fenris said, feeling her up, touching the skin beneath her sweater.
She looked inside for a brain, but it was a little rattled.
"Didn't you?" Fenris demanded, undoing her belt and trousers. The cold fingers rubbed on her clit exquisitely, but she was already wet. He knew nature was done with her for the month.
Hawke nodded. She glanced into his eyes and away, unable to stand it.
"Come now…" he said in her ear, his hand going on her neck, and the other making divinely dirty circles in her panties. "You know the words, don't you?" he said in that soft, rumbling voice of his.
"I lost," she whispered between breaths.
"You did," he said in soft, deep voice, his eyes falling on her lips. He went in for the kiss.
Her body loosened, lengthened. She felt the immediate fever between her legs, and his green eyes shivered as his fingers widened the distended lips and rubbed her harder. She thudded against the tree in a frantic rhythm, her arms around his neck, her hips moving with his hand. His intense facial expressions let her know she must be very quiet and very good.
She felt the pulse in her neck—beep, beep, beep—and the hand brushed down on her clavicles, her tits, her abdomen, and finally, her vagina. His middle and ring finger plunged inside her, turning it up to a hundred. The hits came deep and hard, his breath synced up with hers, and her clitoris was on fire; burning, radiating—
A moan escaped her through the orgasm, and his lips clamped on hers, taking in the rest. She shook in his arms despite herself. But it wasn't over. His nails dug into her hips, up her sweater, and his hard-on crushed into her.
"I can't take it, ma adorae," Fenris said softly in her ear, his head almost resting on her shoulder. "I need you."
"Shh," Hawke said, unbuttoning his trousers. "I'm here."
She fixed her eyes into his, her hands lapping on his iron-hard cock as if they could devour it. Immediately, his hands went up her sweater, under her bra, grabbing her breasts in a fury. She stroked his silky cock and cupped his balls. He was losing the thread, his eyes barely open, and his head rested on her shoulder in earnest. The rod thrust despite her hand movements, and she could feel his hot breath on her neck. A shudder escaped him as she stroked him faster, his nails digging into her tits.
"Maker, you're so fucking sexy," Hawke said in disbelief.
"So are you," Fenris said softly.
Not long after, he gave a soft moan and his cock burst down her hand; a hot fountain of cum.
"Damn," she said, very pleased with herself. "You went from big bad wolf to loveable puppy in under ten minutes."
"Is that good or bad?" he said with a little smile.
"It's pretty damn great," she said, kissing his cheek.
Back on the road, Hawke and Donnic were getting along well. They shared stories, laughs—some at the expense of their stubborn partners—and she hinted at him joining her crew if he was ever in need of extra money or sense of adventure. Aveline gave her a big fat scowl, to which Hawke smirked and said, "Now you know how it feels."
Fenris had become very quiet; more so than usual. People started to take notice.
"Leave him alone," Hawke said. "He's got his own inner world."
"But there are so many exciting things in this one," Donnic said. "Look how red Aveline's gotten!"
"He's recharging," Hawke said, looking at him. "For example, if he really had energy, he'd say 'Thanks for having my back, mah adough-ray'."
Fenris looked at her sideways, his eyebrow slowly rising.
"Top of the afternoon, serah," Donnic said, waving.
"Back in the land of the living?" Aveline said.
"Her terrible pronunciation can wake the dead," Fenris said, slouching with his arms crossed.
"It's not terrible," Hawke said, offended.
"It sounds like you're my ray of dough," Fenris said grumpily.
"Well," Hawke said, looking down and grabbing her abdomen. "I'm getting there, if you keep enabling me."
"It's ah-doh-reh," Fenris said, rolling his R's naturally.
"Ah-dough-ruh," Aveline tried.
"Ah-doo-reh," Donnic said, squinting.
"Ah-doh-rrrrray," Hawke said, almost spitting.
Fenris face-palmed. "Just… stop."
"What were you thinking so hard on?" Aveline said. "Before the festival of gutter Tevene."
"There's a song stuck in my head," Fenris said, blinking tiredly. "But I can't remember what it is or where I heard it."
"Well, sing it," Hawke said.
"No," Fenris said.
"Come now. Don't be shy," Donnic teased him.
"Take it and stuff it," Fenris snapped. He looked out the window. "Besides, there are only a few notes, going over and over and over again." He brushed up his bangs, sighing. "It's incredibly annoying."
"It's an ear worm," Hawke said. "It will come to you if you stop trying."
Fenris scoffed. "Tell that to my bloody brain."
Evening, The Swan's Flight
Ostwick was an interesting city, full of trees, wide paved roads and little ponds. There were ducks and swans just walking around through town, and the citizens seemed to respect that, even treasure it. They passed myriad of lit and lively taverns, no vacancies in sight. Everyone was en route to the Grand Tourney. Finally, they found an inn with a whopping two rooms left, one of which had to go to the drivers.
When they got up to their room, there was only one bed…
Fenris and Donnic said a combination of, "You ladies have the bed". Aveline raised an eyebrow. Hawke raised two.
The gender wars commenced.
"I don't understand the problem," Fenris said. "We're the ones getting the shitty floor."
"No one asked you to," Aveline said nonchalantly.
"This is true," Donnic said, scratching his ear nervously.
"Shut up," Fenris said. He looked back at them. "It's just a nice thing to do."
"That's… true," Hawke said, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Shut up," Aveline said to her. "I thought you were a feminist," she said, squinting at him.
"So, if I'm a feminist, I should make women—" Fenris said, gesturing towards them.
"Femmes," Hawke said with a raised finger.
"—I should make women and femmes sleep on the floor?" Fenris corrected, gesturing down.
"It should be by need, not gender," Aveline said. She looked at Donnic. "Your shoulder's acting up and you already slept on the floor once for me. Can't I return the favour?"
"Well…" Donnic said, thinking.
"Whose side are you on?" Fenris said with a grimace.
"Well…" Donnic said again.
"Fine," Fenris said with crossed arms. "I don't need anything."
"Oh, come on, you still have chronic pain," Hawke said. "That's why we're going to Markham in the first place!"
"I'm fine," Fenris insisted.
"Fine," Hawke said calmly. "I'll sleep next to Donnic. Is that what you want?"
"No," Aveline said.
"Hell no," Fenris said.
"I am uncomfortable!" Donnic said, raising his voice and staring into nothingness.
"Let's settle this honourably, Fenris," Aveline said, sitting down at a table and pulling up her sleeve. She banged her elbow on the table and raised her forearm. "If I win, the men get the bed. If you win, we'll take it."
Hawke chewed on her thumbnail, stifling a laugh.
"I am having the most disturbing deja-vu…" Fenris said, rubbing his forehead.
"Just don't make out with her and you'll be fine," Hawke said, patting him on the back.
Finally, Donnic and Hawke sat on the bed, watching the pre-game.
"Femme power!" Hawke cheered.
"Memme power!" Donnic cheered.
"Memme?" Hawke said, laughing.
"Macho?" Donnic offered.
"Man power," Fenris said.
"That is simpler," Donnic said, shrugging. "Man power!" he cheered.
"This is turning out to be even better than the Grand Tourney!" Hawke said excitedly.
"No… no it's not…" Aveline said, shaking her head.
"Are we going to talk or are we going to wrestle?" Fenris said gruffly.
"We can still talk—" Hawke said.
"Wrestle!" Aveline growled, taking his hand.
The battle begun.
The battle ended.
Fenris held onto his painful wrist.
"Bed, darlings," Aveline said nonchalantly, standing up and drinking from her flask.
Hawke bit her lip and high-fived her. "Wait…" she said, her smile dying. "Are we celebrating getting the shitty floor?"
"Congratulations," Fenris said sarcastically.
Fenris turned a million times in bed. Hawke kept snoring. Donnic kept talking in his sleep. Aveline kept making sudden moves.
He rose furiously, and squatted down next to Aveline and Hawke's improvised floor bed by the fire. Hawke had her back turned and was sleeping like the dead.
Aveline opened her eyes.
"Beat it," Fenris said.
"Piss off," Aveline said.
"I will tell Donnic how you originally planned on courting him…" Fenris whispered, raising his eyebrows calmly. "Three goats was it?"
"He knows," she whispered. "He found it hilarious."
He pursed his lips. "Shall I make your floor experience more comfortable with a night terror?"
"You're a night terror."
"Very mature."
"Fine," she whispered curtly, getting up. "This isn't over," she said, pointing at him as she left for the bed.
Fenris made himself cosy and raised his middle fingers.
"Hands off. I will smash," Hawke muttered in her sleep, feeling his arm around her.
Fenris stifled a chuckle. "You can smash me later," he whispered.
"I'll smash you good," Hawke mumbled.
Sunrise, The Swan's Flight
Hawke turned on her side, half-asleep. Consciousness was getting baited by the delight of her new bed partner, who was wearing pajamas, looking very cute and touchable. She closed her eyes, cuddling him and sinking into his warmth, when she made a very bad mistake—her knee bent upwards, in an attempt to encase him, but instead, she kicked him in the gonads.
Fenris woke with a hard shake, as if he'd swallowed something he shouldn't have. His big eyes started pressing shut with the realisation of what had happened, and turned on his back, bending a knee up and holding his crotch. He couldn't even utter his visha-ven-vesh routine.
"Shit, sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Hawke said, covering her mouth.
"What happened?" Donnic said, waking up. Aveline rose too.
"What did I ever do to you?" Fenris cried.
"I'm sorry!" Hawke said, petting his hair. "Are you okay?"
"I'm dying," Fenris whined.
Aveline tried not to laugh, getting out of bed. "Well, good thing you're going to a doctor."
Late morning, The Fox Button Collective
Markham was also an interesting city. A city-fortress of grey stone towers, climbing ivy, purple flags and busy, narrow streets. The main roads were experiencing a very odorous traffic jam, although the pollution had more to do with the horse shit out of people's mouths. Everyone was yelling, telling folks where to shove it or whose mother they shoved it in.
Thankfully, the clinic was a little ways removed from the main roads, and Fenris felt like he could breathe again. But when he saw the sign above him saying Fox Button Collective with a pretty flower on top, he had trouble breathing once more.
"You okay?" Hawke said, holding his hand.
"I'm fine," Fenris lied. He continued staring at the sign. It was above a round archway leading into a two-story building with myriad of plants in the tall windows. "You said we're staying at the Laughing Fox?"
"Yep," Hawke said.
"Is that just a coincidence or do they just really like foxes around here?" Fenris said.
"Fox buttons are flowers," Hawke said, chuckling. "They symbolise friendship. It's like an unspoken rule that if you come with fox buttons, you come in peace."
"I wonder how many fox buttons I need for skin, muscle and mental health problems," Fenris said sarcastically.
"A crapload?" she said, shrugging. "Don't forget to mention Merlin."
"Nine tenths of a crapload," he said flatly. "Yippee."
"Forget about the money," she said, tightening her hand on his. "This is about your wellbeing. You can't put a price on that."
"I'm sure they will try," he said grumpily.
"Fine. Obsess about the money," she said, dragging him towards the entrance. "At least you're distracted."
It was cute how optimistic she was. He couldn't even make it through the door.
"Alright," Hawke said, taking him by the shoulders and looking in his eyes. "No matter what happens here, you'll still come out getting a coffee and lunch and a Markham cheesecake."
His eyebrows twitched in lukewarm consideration. It did feel nice though, that she was there for him.
"Maybe even a moment alone back in the room, if those two are out…" she whispered in his ear.
Mmm, yes. She smelled so good; like chocolate and strawberries. Her red hair was loose and wavy at the bottom, and she had the prettiest eyes in the world. They could wink at him as she sat on his face. No, wait. She could wink at him, suck his dick and sit on his face.
"I'm distracted," Fenris said. "Let's go."
The interior was a calming blue, and the veritable greenhouse of flowers helped. The woman behind the desk didn't. She was small, with a black bob haircut and straight bangs, and she was staring into his soul.
"I've been corresponding with Valeria," Fenris said.
"Pain patient?" the eerie alchemist said, petting her black cat.
"Pain patient," he said flatly. The cat's purring was comforting.
"Have a seat. She is with another patient."
He sat down. But the wait only made it worse. His knee was jerking out of control.
"Cool flowers, right?" Hawke said, distracting him. "Anything stand out to you?"
"Hmm," Fenris said, scanning the room. "That dark blue bell-like flower looks nice."
"Lady of Summer," the alchemist said. "It helps with memory. Plus, it's pretty."
Pretty dangerous. He didn't need such things in his house.
He looked at Hawke, rubbing his ear. She'd be disappointed in him. Then again, the day was young, and the list was long. She could come out of this appointment with the realisation that he was incurable; that he'd be an incredible burden on her for life. That scared him more than any deja-vu.
A woman with long, wavy blond hair, a salmon coat and a turquoise brooch in the shape of a fish came in and sat in front of them.
"I love your brooch," Hawke said candidly. "Goes so well with the coat."
"Thank you," the woman said in an Orlesian accent, fiddling with it. "Your coat is nice, too. Fereldan, is it?"
"Don't hold it against me," Hawke said with a chuckle.
"You are not the kind I would consider enemy," she said, a tiredness in her voice. "Are you with Evangeline, too?"
"Valeria," Hawke said, giving him a look up and down. "I doubt either of us need Evangeline's services."
"I like my penis, thank you very much," Fenris said, too anxious to care about politeness.
"I like mine too. It's not a rule, my dear," the woman said nonchalantly. "Besides, Evangeline does all sorts of surgeries."
"Indeed," another woman said, coming out of a room. She seemed noble-born, with a light brown braided up-do. "What shall we be cutting today?"
"Pass," Fenris said.
"Calm down, Fen Fen. No one's cutting you or your dick open," Hawke said, touching his thigh.
The pink woman laughed, standing up and going with Evangeline.
"For now," Evangeline said, clicking her teeth and winking as they left.
His throat was closing in. He'd never been particularly attached to his penis, nor the rest of his body for that matter. However, recent events started to change all that. He was inside his own body more than he'd ever been. It became part of his identity; not so much as a man, but as a seducer. He was starting to think his dick was magic, because it brought Hawke to her knees. His fingers too; they were magic paint brushes, and she was the living, smiling, moaning, radiating canvas. They all had to stay and continue blowing her mind, or else, he would start looking pretty damn unattractive. No one wanted an untouchable mental case who couldn't fuck.
Great… he hadn't even really done that. Maybe he was going to be terrible. The walls were closing in!
"Next," a black woman said, coming out of a room. She had short hair, wide cheekbones and nice, long eyebrows. Valeria, then.
"Prank letter," Fenris said, standing up to leave.
"Prank letter, but you showed up anyway?" Hawke said, unimpressed. She dragged him back by the hand.
"I'm in a fugue state," Fenris exaggerated.
"I'm not," Hawke said flatly. She smiled at Valeria. "He's the guy from Kirkwall."
"Alright," Valeria said, laughing. "Let's get you in before you run back."
Valeria's office had no surgical tools around. In fact, it was very pretty, with pastel paintings, potted plants and a rainbow shelf of potions. Her window was overlooking a small park, and they could hear children playing.
Hawke sat with him on the patient bed, while Valeria brought a chair.
Valeria was talking. Hawke was talking. Fenris was staring at the aquarium of fish. Lucky pricks; they were in their damn water. He felt more like he'd washed up on the shore, in the baking sun, blanking and panicking.
Valeria wanted to take a sample of his blood, and he shut her down immediately. No one was coming at him, neither with touch nor with tools.
Hawke took his hand. "I can do it," she said softly. She looked back at Valeria. "I trained as a field medic."
Fenris inhaled deeply. "Fine," he said, rolling up his sleeve.
Lady Stress and Lord Panic strangled him, but Hawke's touch was very soothing. It was all… underwhelming. He blamed himself for the unnecessary stress.
Valeria took the vial in another room, and came back saying a bunch of words he didn't understand. The translation was, "You're fine, but there's an awful lot of stress juice in your veins."
He was fine? He didn't feel fine. His throat closed.
Then Hawke started recounting his history, and things were coming back into focus. He'd barely opened his mouth, yet the appointment went on. The details were gruesome, things he didn't wish to remember, yet they came with a nice surprise. She remembered every little thing, every detail—even facts she hadn't been witness to, merely a listener.
"That's a lot of stress for one body," Valeria said, crossing her legs.
"But it's over," Fenris snapped. "It is done. Why must I keep suffering?"
Because you are a piece of shit, a darkness inside him said.
"It's never just 'over'," Valeria said. "Trauma is not what happened to you. It's what happened inside you, as a consequence of the event."
Fenris pondered in agreement.
"Trauma itself as a word means 'wound'. It is our woundedness that dictates how we live in our bodies, how we perceive the world, what we believe about ourselves, how stuck we are in the past; unable to appreciate the present moment," Valeria said. "The wound we carry, either physical, or mental, can stay raw for a long time. Or, it can get covered by a significant amount of scar tissue, numbing us out, and then burning and itching at the slightest reminder. And then we pick at it, without even wishing to."
Pick, pick, pick, the darkness said. Like a fool.
"So, it's my fault?" Fenris said, glowering.
Valeria shook her head with a slow shrug. "It's no one's fault, dear. It's just how it is."
THAT 'NO ONE' HAS A NAME. IT NEEDS TO BE ON A HEADSTONE AND YOU NEED TO TAKE A GIANT FUCKING SHIT ON IT! the half-blind man shouted.
Fenris scoffed. "Sure. Let's just forget the people who did this to me."
"I'm not saying forgive and forget, although there is power in that," Valeria said, gesturing.
"Pass," Fenris said, gesturing back.
"He's got enough trouble forgiving himself," Hawke said. "I thought he should focus on that."
"That is also very powerful," Valeria said, nodding.
"Aren't you supposed to give me a potion or something?" Fenris complained.
"I don't work like that," Valeria said softly, shifting in her seat. "I will give you a potion if you need it. But that is for managing symptoms, not treating the root cause. I don't see a sack of meat and arteries in front of me. There is a lot more going on inside you than a short-circuited nervous system. I see a person, with a lot on his plate."
This woman is a quack. Leave, the darkness inside him said.
"It sounds as if we're going to form a circle and do drugs together," Fenris said defensively, shrugging. "I'm not saying 'no'."
"Let's focus on actual healing," Valeria said, laughing.
"And how do you plan to do that?" Fenris said.
She has no idea, the darkness said. She knows nothing.
"Well, if trauma means 'wound', healing at its roots means 'returning to wholeness'," Valeria said. "I see trauma as a disconnection within the self."
She probably trained as a seer in Rivain, the darkness said. She could be a mage, not just a bloody quack. Just leave.
"There is no physical cure at the moment for your issues, but that's not the end of the story," Valeria said. "Your body and your mind are one. They are different manifestations of the same unity of being. They are in an endless, finely tuned dance. A choreography of soma and psyche. Health and illness are not random states in a particular body or body part. They are, in fact, an expression of an entire life lived. Once we recognise that, the process of healing can begin."
Translation: doomed, the darkness said.
"I wouldn't rely on my mind for help," Fenris said. "It's a bloody circus in there."
Hurtful, the boring band-aid bath guy said, finally waking up.
But true, the darkness said.
"Your wife mentioned your pain has been better lately," Valeria said, while Hawke cleared her throat and scratched her head. "Can you think back on what helped?"
No, the darkness inside him said.
"No," Fenris said flatly.
"Little things," Hawke said. "Staying active, making meaningful connections, new and happy memories. Hot baths work like a charm," she said, her tongue slightly coming out.
I do like baths, the boring band-aid bath guy said.
Especially with her, the hard-up grinning lunatic agreed.
"That's because of the naked lady with me," Fenris said flatly.
"Oh, yeah. Sex too. Great helper," Hawke said, smiling unashamed.
Grand helper, the hard-up grinning lunatic said.
Tell them about your journal, the boring band-aid bath guy said.
And her nice lullabies, the poet said.
The red band, the hard-up grinning lunatic said.
'Book club', the gruff one said.
You should also mention the night terrors, the boring band-aid bath guy said.
Don't mention any of it! the darkness shouted. Listen to me, boy. This is all incredibly foolish. You are opening yourself up to more hurt and disappointment.
Shut the fuck up, the gruff one said.
These wankers can bark about positive coping strategies all they want, the darkness said. But you and I both know the best thing that helped you was not thinking about it. Now you're stuck thinking about it and it's all unravelling and it's her fault!
His heart raced, but his inner monologue had to wait.
"When he gets knotted up, I… uhm… give him a real good massage," Hawke drawled, scratching her head.
"How kind," Valeria said, smiling politely.
This gave him pause. It wasn't her fault. It was his. The darkness. The idiot, hateful Wolf. What did this mage, and her magic for that matter, ever do but help him, listen to him, make him a better man?
There we go, back to reality, the boring band-aid bath guy said.
The reality is Valeria can't do anything for you, the darkness said. No one can.
"So, you can't actually do anything for me," Fenris said.
"I can," Valeria said confidently, going to her potion cabinet. She came back with three. He became dizzy. "This one is for acute pain only. Take it only when you can't stand it," she said about the red one. "This one calms your nerves. You can take it regularly after dinner. Never before, as it can make you dizzy," she said about the blue one. "And this one is a poultice. It will reduce your sensitivity," she said about the purple one. She started writing in her notepad. "I will jot down the plants and brewing process so you can get them in Kirkwall."
"Score!" Hawke said, tapping his knee. "I'll put Solitivus to work for me for a change."
"I will also give you homework," Valeria said, writing.
"Yay," Fenris said flatly.
"Write down your feelings and try to sit with them, instead of distracting yourself. Let them go away on their own, and put to pen and paper what happens. Then we can reassess in three months," Valeria said. "Engage with your passions, with the people that are dear to you, and always, always, always practice self-compassion."
Self-what? the darkness said.
"Self… compassion?" Fenris said, raising an eyebrow.
"When people feel bad, they start feeling bad about feeling bad too," Valeria said, a little amused. "They blame themselves, or blame others, chastise themselves, catastrophise about the future, and down the panic hole they go. The first instinct is to run away and correct for it somehow, usually with food, alcohol or other addictions. But the hole never gets filled, and your body suffers. And yet your body goes on anyway, working a thankless job; riding on the wings of grace, as it were, to keep you alive, with not a single break."
"Like a mother," Hawke said.
"Yes," Valeria said, nodding with a smile. "Like a mother."
"I am confused," Fenris said.
"The short of it is you should be kind to yourself," Valeria said. "It makes all the difference. Trust me."
"Trust isn't my strong suit," Fenris said flatly.
"Trust me, then," Hawke said. "I've been doing this dance way before you. It really does change things, when you're patient and compassionate with yourself, when you become your own cheerleader."
"That sounds like the hardest thing in the world," Fenris said, raising his voice towards the end.
"It is," Valeria said, nodding sympathetically. "But we were all born with it—compassion, care, child-like wonder. That genuine and loving part of us can either be nourished or discouraged. Most people, unfortunately, lose this part as they grow up. But it's still in there," she said, rubbing her chest. "If you tend to it, it has tremendous wisdom."
"So, this loss… it starts with bad parenting, then?" Hawke said.
"It starts with a bad society," Valeria said, self-possessed. "One that rewards repression, resilience, pain and violence, and punishes authenticity. But I doubt you came here for a lecture."
Fenris snorted, tapping Hawke's thigh. "We will be here all day."
Borrowed the plant stuff from Strange Horticulture; great game.
Check out also Gabor Maté, Candace Pert, Bessel van der Kolk and Peter Levine for the mind-body stuff.