for my lovely friend, miniroonie! once again, happy birthday!

*4.1.21: retyped edited to fix mistakes, update writing style, and add to the story.*

Disclaimer: Obviously, neither Dragon Age nor Inuyasha belong to me.

Part IV

Eyebrows furrowing, Kagome pulled her gaze away from the woman standing before her to cut a look over at Shippo. He gave an eager nod, quick to reassure as well as encourage. Trusting him, she turned back to Morrigan and dipped her head. "Kagome," she said, smiling bright as she introduced herself, "Pleasure to meet you."

Morrigan blinked at the warm greeting, her lips curling in a smile that was almost playful. "To you as well," she murmured, pleased. Her golden eyes flickered over to Shippo. "What a curious pair you make," she mused, mostly to herself, her words coming at a drawl.

Kagome leaned forward, a brow arched. "You mean because we're two people in a world not their own?"

Morrigan tipped her head, regarding them where they sat together with a keen eye. "There is that," she conceded, sounding rather amused in the lilt of her voice, "A remarkable feat to be sure, one worth investigating. There is also, however, the…" She drew out the pause, gaze sharpening as it fixed on Kagome, "Contrast."

Ah.

Kagome's own eyes flicked over to Shippo, eyeing him with an appraising look; the kitsune only shrugged in reply, a sheepish grin still fixed on his face. She returned her attention to Morrigan. "You can sense auras," she stated slowly.

"Yes," came the woman's answer, short and simple. Morrigan took a step forward, and another, and another, until she came to a stop at the base of the steps leading up to the mirror's plateau and a couple feet shy from Shippo's other side. Her attention shifted to the mirror, inspecting it with a critical eye and a dip between her brows as she continued speaking, "You are to demons in your world what Templars are to mages in mine." She turned her head slightly, just enough to peer down at them from the side. "And yet, here you two are: together."

Implication weighed heavily in her observation.

Well, then.

She wasn't entirely wrong, Kagome surmised.

Shippo leaned back to toss an arm around Kagome's shoulders, grinning up at Morrigan with a hint of fang at the corner of his mouth. A sight Kagome found curious, to see him so comfortable that he'd ease his glamor. "Basically," he agreed with Morrigan, only to follow up by disputing, "Except priestesses are generally more about protecting against the evil ones than hunting them — that's more slayer territory, but, y'know, without the whole widespread oppression you guys have got going on."

Morrigan only gave a small hum, returning to her study of the mirror.

"Anyway," Shippo drew out, looking at Kagome. "I bumped into Morrigan while tracking a lead to another mirror in Orlais. Turns out we're not the only ones researching these things."

"Really?" Kagome blurted out in her surprise, before turning an expectant look to the mage herself.

"My reasons are my own," Morrigan replied, tone brusque and inviting no further questioning, "But I have an invested interest in these mirrors. I have been searching for others to restore and activate."

"So you use them to travel between countries?" Kagome murmured, and the mage nodded. "Then what about between worlds?"

Here, Morrigan looked distinctly uncomfortable. "T'is… more difficult, but I have done so."

"Difficult how?"

"Difficult in that…" Morrigan paused to consider her words. "To travel between mirrors, they both must be open for passage," she began, "If a mirror is not already activated, then I must do it myself — impossible to do when I cannot reach the world the mirror is located in the first place. But it requires great effort to move between worlds, as well as great power."

Her hand rose, curled into a tight fist, to press firm against her abdomen. Though her eyes remained fastened to the mirror's murky surface, they appeared absent, lost in thought. "... I have tried it once," she said, voice now a soft murmur. "I would not try it again, not so soon."

A few more beats of silence followed, before she then steered her gaze towards the pair, scrutinizing the miko and demon. "How you two not only activated the mirror in your world without meaning to, but traveled through and out this mirror as well, and to do so largely unscathed… T'is a mystery even to me." Her voice was back to normal, though it carried a hint of bemused intrigue, and she returned her attention to the Eluvian. "This mirror has yet to even be activated itself — it should not have even worked."

Her frustration was as obvious as the blatant yearning to understand.

Shippo leaned in towards Kagome, his voice a stage whisper as he helpfully informed her that, "She really likes these mirrors."

Morrigan whipped her head to glare at him. "I do not simply like these mirrors," she snapped, exasperated and annoyed in a way that implied this was not the first time she had to say it. Shippo jumped as if she wielded a lash. "T'is not some whimsical fascination — t'is a desire for knowledge, to understand that which has been lost so many years ago, to bring back and preserve this magic of old."

Shippo held out his hands in a show of surrender. "Right, right, of course," he hastily replied in an attempt to appease her. By the look she returned, it wasn't working. "I just meant…" He trailed off at the dangerous sight of her eyes narrowing, and when he shut his mouth, it was with an audible click.

Kagome watched the interaction play out before her, her own eyes narrowing. "So," she interjected, curiosity getting the better of her, "When you say you 'bumped' into each other…"

Shippo gave a nervous chuckle, his hand climbing up to rub against the back of his neck. He shot a quick, almost worried glance in Morrigan's direction, and watching him, Kagome felt the exasperation building up inside her already. "Well, you know, when I said I was following a lead to a mirror, what I meant was that I actually found one! And then Morrigan found me." His eyes skittered away. "Aaaand, then she proceeded to attack me."

Kagome shut her eyes, sighing. She wasn't even surprised.

"Though not until after you propositioned me," Morrigan remarked offhandedly. Kagome's eyes popped open just in time to see the mage throw a sneer in his direction, and she whipped around to see Shippo pale and meet her gaze, caught out. "And rather poorly at that — did you know I have heard better attempts from an Antivan Crow, and his were as painful and poor as his skill as an assassin."

Kagome turned her eyes skyward, so that she wouldn't have to look at Shippo's sheepish expression any longer. She shook her head — out of all the people Shippo allowed himself to be influenced by, it had to be Miroku. Head dropping so she could at least give Morrigan an apologetic on her wayward friend's behalf, she asked, resigned, "And you came with him here, still?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, she spied Shippo's mouth twitching. He leaned back towards her, and, in another stage whisper, said, "Really likes them."

Kagome's gaze cut to Morrigan to see the mage slowly clenching and unclenching her fists, and she was forced to resist the urge to palm her face. Teasing, she thought, incredulous, He's teasing her. Of course he is.

"You are impossible," Morrigan snipped in a dark mutter, "And I cannot wait for the day I am able to activate this mirror, if only t'is to send you back to your own world." Turning to Kagome, she exasperatedly informed her, "Your friend is rather persistent." Shippo grinned, proud and unashamed. "He also managed to evade my attacks long enough to explain he was not a threat. Once he mentioned his only interest in the mirrors was to return 'home,' I was… more than willing to listen."

Kagome leaned forward now, interest piqued. Her talk with Shippo about proper etiquette when addressing a woman would have to wait until later. "So you can do it?" she inquired, "All the texts I've found said nothing on how to activate an Eluvian, or even how to... enable it for travel."

Morrigan turned, face straight and staring directly at Shippo as she said, "If I worshipped a god, I would pray to them that it would be so."

Said kitsune tried for a charming smile, to which the mage promlypt turned her nose up at.

Turning back to the mirror, Morrigan's eyes trailed along the carvings on its stone frame. "In any case, to activate an Eluvian, one needs the key," she explained for Kagome's benefit. "Each mirror requires a different key. It will take research, close examination, and most importantly and unfortunately," She turned her head then and locked gazes with Kagome, her golden gaze filled with long suffering as she finished, "Time."

In the lowest recesses of Castellum Tenebris were the holdings Danarius kept for his slaves. He had many, a great deal more than one needed to provide upkeep for even a fortress, but then magisters often needed a surplus on hand. One never knew when they might require a handful of sacrifices to provide for entertainment at that week's engagement — the auctions were only ever held on the weekends, after all.

The holdings offered little room and no comfort, slaves expected to sleep on the cold marble floor, provided the bare essentials so that they wouldn't become deathly ill. Threadbare clothes to keep a modicum of decorum, bedding that might as well have been paper thin. With so many contained to a room and the weather of Tevinter, there was no concern of freezing to death, to be sure. They were only offered the luxury of water to combat the heatstroke.

The Deep Roads almost, almost, matched up. It was nearly just as oppressive, dark, and uncomfortable. The smell of desperation reeked — or perhaps that was them, having not properly bathed in more than a week.

The only thing amiss was the knowledge that they were not stuck there forever, that there was an escape to this hell.

Only less than a week left, if things all went according to plan.

As if things ever went according to plan, Fenris bitterly thought, glaring at the jagged rock walls.

"Fenris?"

The man in question turned, finding Hawke to be sitting up and rubbing her right eye as her left peered at him still. "What are you doing still up? Bartrand's men have the watch covered, and Anders said he'd wake up long before darkspawn can sneak up to ambush us." she said, gently adding, "You should get some rest."

Fenris felt his jaw twitch as he clenched it tight. "I will sleep when we are no longer in this infernal place," he sharply replied, crossing his arms. He could hear, past the sound of lava churning menacingly somewhere in the distance, the distinct sound of spiders, the sound of their legs clicking as they skitter over stone, and creaking groans of something no longer alive still walking this wretched land. His skin itched at the thought of so many threats within distance — to sleep with the knowledge.

Blasted spiders. Blasted undead. Blasted darkspawn. Blasted Deep Roads with its stale, cold air and dank atmosphere and Maker-cursed never ending maze of tunnels.

Hawke tried for a wry grin, but even he could tell the Deep Roads were taking its toll on her and that she was only keeping a brave face. Her 'grin' was strained at the edges, and dark circles resided beneath her tired grey eyes. A full week had passed, and they had only just found a thaig worth looking at.

And still, Hawke somehow found it in her to draw from her usual brand of humor and joke about it, "Had I knew you were claustrophobic, I never would have invited you to two weeks of traipsing through the underground and fielding darkspawn."

Fenris twitched, his tongue running from him. "And had I known just how funny you thought your jokes were, I would never have requested your help those months ago," he snipped in return.

An awkward silence soon followed, leaving Fenris to the rush of regret that soon washed over him and the heavy beat of his pulse.

"That hurt, Fenris," Hawke soon said, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. It drove the regret of his undue outlash deeper, sharper.

Fenris gave a rough sigh, unable to ignore the guilt gnawing at him. After all, Hawke was only trying to lighten the tension weighing down on them both. "I know," he admitted, and saying the words felt like pulling teeth, "Forgive me, that was ungrateful of me; you did not deserve such—"

But Hawke did not allow him to finish.

"I think I might cry," she burst out, the wobble in her voice too exaggerated to be anything but false, "You, my dearest friend, do not enjoy my humor? Nay, you dislike my jokes?" She slapped a hand against her leather-clad thigh. "Was it all a lie, then, those times we laughed together?" she demanded and clutched at her armored chest as she pinned him with eyes wide with betrayal.

There was even a fucking tear building in one of them.

Another beat of silence followed, one not so awkward and much more infuriating.

Slowly, Fenris shut his mouth, the rest of his apology dying a swift death at the tip of his tongue. Instead, a few choice names yearned to be said. It was only out of respect — of her, and of his own desire to live, to see the sky and breathe fresh air once more — that he restrained.

A chuckle broke out a few yards down from where Varric laid in his bedroll. They heard the shuffle of cloth as he shifted to lay on his side to watch them both, one arm stretched out and bent to prop up the side of his face. "I'd watch it Hawke," he warned, and his voice fell to drawling, sounding not at all concerned but instead grossly amused. "The Deep Roads have a way of messing with people's heads. Broody might be on the edge of snapping and killing us all!"

Fenris snorted. He moved over to drop down and stretch out onto his bedroll, folding his hands over his stomach. Perhaps sleep would be better, if only to escape those two. "And lose my only way out of this vexing place?" he blandly replied, "I would wait until we were within sight of the exit before killing you."

Hawke snorted, eyes glimmering in the faint glow of torchlight as Varric rumbled with a low laugh. "Well, at least you're reasonable about it."

"Slavers, Kagome?" Shippo exploded once she finished relaying about her own trip to Tevinter and back. "Seriously?"

With a grimace, Kagome directed her attention to the pot of stew she had boiling over the fire, stirring through the chunks of meat and vegetables. Raising the wooden ladle to her lips, she carefully took a small taste. Seconds passed as she considered the flavor, before dipping her fingers into the pouch of spices opened by her side and stirring a pinch-full in.

When she leaned back to peer at her friend he was, to her keen disappointment, waiting impatiently with an expectant look solely for her.

Kagome sighed and set the ladle down. "You know, you were the one that said you didn't like the idea of me travelling alone," she pointedly reminded him in her defense. "And I figured since he was running from slavers, he wasn't about to sell me off behind my back."

Shippo scoffed, the sound rife with his incredulity. "Because you would've been safer with someone to watch out for you — partnering up with someone who already had a bounty on them kind of defeats the purpose, Kagome!"

Kagome looked away, another grimace twisting her features at his sharp words. Her gaze dropped to her hands. "He needed help, Shippo," she confessed, more quietly this time, remembering that first time she'd found Fenris — unconscious as he sat propped up by only the tree he'd passed out against, covered in blood both his own and not, white hair stained rusty brown from a mix of dirt and dried blood, still bleeding from an alarming amount of injuries, shallow and deep.

He'd been a mess, and she would have thought him dead had she not seen the twitch of his furrowed brows and the tremble of his hand still gripping tight to the hilt of his sword. He seemed so… alone, sitting there under that tree, cast in dark shadows from the shade, just… bleeding out. That he was so thin, face gaunt and dark shadows under his eyes, and still managed to fight all those slavers she'd passed on the road — for the chances he wasn't the one responsible for all those corpses she'd found were pretty slim — made her heart hurt further, made her want to help him.

So, she did.

It hadn't been her intention to accompany him out of the Imperium when she decided to patch him up; things just… fell into place that way.

Kagome recalled the way, during the three days it took Fenris to recover enough to get back on his feet and moving, how he rarely, if ever, took his eyes off her as she moved about their small camp. How he watched with a close eye when she prepared the food, always waiting until she took the first bite before he tentatively started in on his own portion. How he tensed when she was in close proximity to him, jerking minutely every time her fingers brushed against his skin when she changed his bandages and cleaned his wounds, hands clenching in his lap with a white-knuckled grip. How, the moment he was able to, he demanded to do what he could manage by himself.

Fenris had been so angry when they first met. Lashing tongue, flaring nostrils, flashing eyes. One wrong step and he'd be quick to snap, and even tip-toeing around him would set him off. He wanted her gone, far away, but at the same time, wasn't foolish to turn away the generosity she offered. Oh, he'd be gone at the first scent of something off, but until then, he wasn't in the position to turn away free food and treatment.

So Kagome fed him, and helped him heal, and all the while she chattered inanely and nonstop about whatever first crossed her mind. He'd eased in time, more so when he was finally back on his own two feet.

In all honesty, part of her asking to join Fenris was on a whim — a random impulse born from her desire to have someone to talk to on the long journey between Tevinter and Estwatch. Minrathous was a grand city, filled with tall, elegant spires reaching to the skies, and bustling markets displaying a range of grandiose wares — where in broad daylight one might bear witness to one person so casually slapping another to the ground, without anyone batting an eye or raising a protest, because slavery was an actual, legal practice there.

For nearly a decade she'd been displaced into this world that wasn't her own, and Kagome had never felt so bereft that the moment she'd stepped foot into the Imperial capital, and that was without even getting into the blood magic practiced by and large behind closed doors, like some badly kept secret, or the things that went on in the dark of night deep in the city's alleys.

Kagome was just so… so tired of being alone, and she had never felt it so poignantly until that point. She couldn't have been happier to leave that place behind her once she researched all she could.

Stumbling upon Fenris when she did felt like a sign, almost.

The other part of her reasoning was because she would never be able to forget the look of pure, absolute terror Fenris had worn upon waking up that first time, nor the haunted look that seemed incapable of completely leaving his eyes. If anything, Kagome wanted to at least help make sure he escaped from whatever it was that he was running from.

The thought that she might have not even done that was something that continued to eat at her incessantly.

Fiddling with the string of her bag of spices, Kagome finally drew it shut and tied it deftly, raising her gaze to meet Shippo's, earnestness apparent across her face. "It just… seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Personally, I am impressed she managed to return from the Imperium at all," Morrigan idly chimed, gingerly turning a page of what looked to be a very old, very worn tome opened across her lap. She had taken a seat a small distance away from the campfire opposite them, but close enough that she was still able to read. And listen, as well. As she continued to speak, her eyes remained fastened to the page before her. "From what I understand, they are not so picky that they only choose elves to be slaves."

Kagome scoffed at the reminder. "There were a couple of close calls," she admitted, "But I made sure to keep to myself, and prepare my own meals. Besides, they don't really snatch you off the street so much as try to weasel you into signing yourself into 'indentured servitude'. After all, they aren't the barbarians," she said, the last word uttered with blatant mockery.

Morrigan snorted under her breath, the sound almost delicate. "And the man sounds to be a capable warrior in his own right. An ex-slave was likely your safest bet in terms of companions, if one ignores the slight chance of being sacrificed to further ensure their escape," she went on to say, as if such a thing was perfectly reasonable.

Kagome stilled, her eyes soon diverting away from the mage, as that honestly had never even occurred to her.

The witch finally looked up to peer at Shippo, a neatly trimmed eyebrow arched his way. "As such, I find your reaction to be curiously… extreme, for a friend. Clearly she is alive and well."

Shippo sputtered, outraged. "I am not overreacting!" he huffed out, arms crossing over his chest. He turned away, nose in the air in a show of superiority. "I am the appropriate amount of concerned."

Unable to help herself, Kagome reached over with a grin and lightly pinched his cheeks with both hands. "I know you worry and I find it incredibly sweet, but you know I can take care of myself."

Embarrassed, Shippo swiped at her hands to knock them off. "Stop that," he muttered darkly, ducking his head to hide the very obvious flush darkening his cheeks, "I'm not a kid anymore, Gods..."

Kagome only snickered softly and managed to slip a hand through his defenses to give a swift bop on his nose. Shippo gave a defeated groan.

Morrigan looked at them now with both of her eyebrows raised, her confusion palpable.

"Kagome pretty much raised me," the kitsune explained, the 'unfortunately' left unsaid in his long-suffering tone. He jumped to his feet at last to get away from the miko, her giggles following in the wake of his retreat.

"Ah," murmured the witch, a touch of awkwardness and something else to her voice, before she turned back to the tome in her lap, her heavy gaze resting on a spot at random. "She's… like a mother, then. I… I understand."

"Yeah, well," Shippo muttered under his breath. He darted closer to Morrigan, eager for a change in topic.

The odd look on Morrigan's face — a sort of soft, contemplating expression, heavy with reminisce — faded as the kitsune drew near. Bringing her tome closer to her chest, she squinted up at him, a sharp warning in her tone as she demanded, "What are you doing?"

"I'm just curious about what you've been reading!" he said, darting so he could peer over her shoulder and maybe sneak a look, "You've been looking at it since I met you." Kagome had to hold back a laugh when Shippo gave an innocent tilt to his head, lips twitching at the corners as Morrigan tipped her own head back to glare. "Oh? Am I distracting you?"

The temperature dropped sharply, goosebumps prickling up Kagome's arms and a tingling zinging in the back of her head. Shippo yelped as he leapt away, clearing at least six feet. Foxfire gathered in his palms as he hopped about and turned in circles to thaw his now frost-coated tails. He'd taken to leaving the illusion that hid them off when it was only them around — a choice he now regretted. "That was mean!"

Morrigan said nothing as she turned back to her book, perhaps not peace but at least personal space obtained at last, but even in the low light of the fire going on between them, Kagome could spy the slight, soft curl that had touched the woman's mouth.

They had thought that once they stepped foot back into Kirkwall, the Deep Roads and the betrayal that still sent them seething left behind them, it would only get better from there — that it had to, after the hell they had gone through just to make it back up to the surface.

For Hawke, however, they quickly learned that wouldn't be the case.

"The fucking Templars!" Hawke spat for what seemed to be the tenth time that evening, still as furious as the moment she learned it by walking through the door of her Uncle's shack to find her mother in tears and her brother dressed in the garb of what had been her own family's personal nightmare, and drunk to boot. "That little shit — of all the stunts he could've pulled — the damned Templars!"

Tipping the wine bottle clutched firmly in his hand, Fenris took another swig and grunted his commiseration.

Upon their return, the first thing he did was take a long, extensive, overdue bath. The second was to eat a large, scathing hot meal — his favorite and the most expensive one he could find that the inn in Hightown, the Silver Nest, had offered.

The third was to return to his estate and promptly pass out drunk, which Fenris was happy to do with or without Hawke ranting next to him inside his room.

"I just — I just can't believe it!" Hawke moaned, swaying back and forth on the bench they had sat on. "All that fucking work, running around this fucking city, doing one shitty job after a-fucking-nother, pinching fucking coppers, nearly dying in that fucking death hole!"

Her ranting was becoming choked up with emotion, voice cracking as she went on. Wordlessly, Fenris plucked up Hawke's empty cup from between them and filled it halfway. He was about to hand it over when he managed a look at her face; he took in her wrinkled brow, the thin, trembling purse of lips, her flashing grey eyes behind their watery sheen, before shrugging and filling it to the top.

Not even a second after he offered the drink did Hawke take it and chug it down with a grateful hum.

With a hiccup, she slammed the wooden cup on the bench and swiped a few plum drops from her mouth with the back of her hand. Silence fell in the few short moments that followed after, as she braced her forearms against her knees and stared blankly into the small fire Fenris had going in the fireplace.

"She blames me, y'know?" she breathed out, more somber now, hurt, "My mother? Blames me for Beth's death, even if she denies it now — but that's a'right, even I think it's my fault, shoulda stopped her after all, but I didn't. Now she blames me for Carver too, for not being there to stop him." A bitter laugh punched out of her, sharp and cutting and incredulous. "As if I can control what the tit does when he's got a stupid idea in him. More stubborn than a mabari, which, I'll have you know, he gets from her."

Fenris, not knowing what else to do or say, passed along his now half-filled bottle, slipping it into his friend's hand. "Here, throw it," he rasped, nodding over towards the wall where he so often enjoys doing his target practice. It was difficult to miss the wide-arching stains that painted its peeling surface. "It will make you feel much better," he assured, with a sageness that was laughable with how drunk he was.

Hawke peered at the bottle in her hand for a long moment, before turning to peer just as lengthy at Fenris. When he gave her a nod nothing short of encouraging, she shrugged, adjusted her grip around the neck of the wine bottle, squinted as she twisted around to face the wall, aimed, and then launched it with enough force to send her tumbling off the bench, had Fenris not been swift enough to catch her by the arm before she could slam her face into his decrepit flooring.

It was a close call, the bottle veering so far to the right that with just another foot more it would have landed over where his bed was set in the corner, but it hit and shattered upon impact, coating his wall with yet another layer of wine and littering the floor with skittering shards of glass.

"Huh," Hawke said as she straightened and Fenris's hand fell back to his side, as if she was just hit with an epiphany. She stared at the dripping mess she made, bemused. "That does help. I can see why you do it."

Fenris issued a firm nod. "It is not that good of wine anyway," he confessed.

Snorting, Hawke peered over at him with half-lidded eyes. "Then why even bother to drink it?"

Fenris's lips twitched, eyes fluttering shut as he huffed a low laugh. "Because I enjoy imagining what Danarius's face would look like, should he ever see me drinking his subpar, expensive wine and then wasting it to paint the walls of the estate it took from him," he murmured, and his smirk grew. "And because it gets me drunk."

Hawke let out a long laugh, the sound interrupted with more than just a few hiccups.

"I am surprised you came," Fenris soon remarked, cracking an eye open to look at her. "To… me. I am not…" He trailed off, waving a sloppy gesture into the air by hand, struggling to find the word, "The comforting type. And I would have thought, since you and Isabela…" He left the meaningful silence to finish his thought.

Hawke waved him off. "Family stuff makes her uncomfortable, makes her dodgier than usual," she replied with a small chuckle that possessed very little humor in it. "Try as she might deny it. She'd likely just suggest getting drunk and… working it off. Which. Don't get me wrong, has its merits at times," she amended, "But…" Hawke shrugged, letting her sentence hang.

Fenris snorted, but understood. To a degree, at least. Sex may be good to work off the stress, but only for so long until it came bursting back after being all bottled up inside — not that he could talk. Bottling things up was a specialty of his, and the streets outside had a seemingly never-ending supply of thugs lurking around for him to take his anger out on when the need arose, and that was more than enough for him.

Hawke on the other hand seemed to only need to air it all out — vocally. Lending an ear was the least he could do for her, an easy feat, especially when he couldn't quite see straight. HIs mind still worked in an acceptable capacity, and that was all that was needed.

"You still got drunk, Hawke," he reminded her.

Hawke grinned at him. "Which I thank you kindly for supplying the alcohol to, Serah." The grin faded a little then, and she sighed, turning back to the fireplace. "But you're also letting me get it out, er, so to speak." Her voice lowered. "Don't really have a lot of people I trust that I can just… talk to. Vent."

Fenris gave a wry huff. "Not that I mind — you listen to me complain enough as it is, so it is only fair. And I am happy to return the favor, but…" he trailed off, shifting in his seat and glancing away, feeling compelled to point out the obvious. "You do have Varric," he mumbled, adding after a moment, "And Aveline, of course. You've known her for much longer than you have me."

Hawke hummed but shook her head, rueful. "Varric's always good for getting things off your chest — if you don't mind the possibility of some bastardized, outrageous version getting out." Fenris snorted, but didn't argue against it — though he believed both he and she knew that with something as… personal as this, Varric would never even consider doing such a thing. A belief he felt proven when Hawke soon added, still subdued in tone, "Also, he has his own sibling drama to deal with. Mine seems almost… petty, in comparison." Meaning, she didn't want to burden the dwarf further.

Hawke let out a sigh, letting her head drop back so that she could gaze blankly at his crumbling ceiling. "And Aveline… she'd try to talk things out and calm me down when all I want to do is, well, this."

She spread her hands outward in an encompassing gesture at the both of them, hunched over and sitting beside one another on the bench, before she rolled her neck over to flash him another grin. "You're a very good friend, Fenris," she told him, voice soft and eyes wide to convey the honesty of her words.

Privately, Fenris felt touched. Being on the run from slave hunters did not leave him many opportunities to foster things such as friendships or trust, nor was it even an idea he was amenable to. He did not think he would be able to instill such a thing in others in all honesty — he was aware of his temperament, how it warded off others from wanting to get close, used it for that precise reason. It was certainly not his intention when he came into this city either, to make not only allies, but… friends.

Especially not after the last time he allowed himself to get close to another.

Outwardly, Fenris huffed and turned a raised eyebrow at Hawke. "I will not be helping you… work this off," he informed her, and rather balefully at that.

Hawke's eyes went wide for a split-second, before she was reeling back, sputtering with laughter. "Don't worry, handsome though you may be, you're not my type," she wheezed out, swiping at a tear from her eye. "Much too lanky. I can assure you I won't be sullying your virtue by seducing you anytime soon."

Fenris scoffed, rolling his eyes as he deadpanned, "I appreciate it."

His intention was merely to hire help. Just having one person fighting beside held its merits, that much Fenris knew well, and hiring them meant having help without getting close. Without caring.

He'd never meant to stay.

A curious look crossed Hawke's face. "Though, that begs the question.. Has anyone—" The woman interrupted herself with a snigger— "Has there ever been anyone who's had the privilege of knowing the colour of your smalls?"

Fenris went still, feeling his flush rise up from his neck to sweep across his face, growing even hotter when Hawke began to laugh again. He turned away, his reply a dark mutter of, "That pirate has been too much of a terrible influence on you."

But then, he'd be lying if he said that the time he spent traveling with Kagome left him unaffected. No, that couldn't be further from the truth. Never would he have thought to be so close to a mage and with such ease and even… comfort; without entertaining thoughts to kill when their magic set his markings pulsing with a searing edge.

Never would he have thought to consider one not only as a companion, but a friend — one he trusted implicitly.

And Hawke… Hawke was at times exasperating, and her jokes could cause headaches without effort, but she had a way of drawing people towards her, and inspiring loyalty and trust among those that stay.

She reminded him of Kagome sometimes, when he least expected it.

Hawke could be sarcastic and flippant, immature even at times, though he knew from the day they met she could turn serious on a copper's notice, deadly as well. But she also shared the same inherent goodness Kagome often exhibited; the swiftness, the willingness to help for the sake of helping, without recompense — though Hawke would rarely, if ever, turn away a reward if offered, of course.

It made him want to talk about her.

Despite himself, Fenris found his hand drifting to his belt, to the pouch strapped there against his hip, where a certain small marble was still tucked away even after all this time.

He once thought to throw it away, to drop it back in the dirt like when he found it and just leave it behind — a brief moment when the grief, the regret, the guilt had become… too much. Kagome disliked the thing after all, he knew. Had explained the untold grief it caused her and her friends, and the countless innocent lives it cost. He had seen the desire in her eyes when she'd look at it, tucked away and hidden deep, to be rid of it.

But still she carried it, despite it only being a shell of what it once was. It was her responsibility, she had told him, and she would guard it for as long as she lived.

He too knew he would never discard it — knew he would not, could not, bear to part with it. It was all he had left, the last and only thing left in this world that belonged to her, that reminded him of her and therefore their time together.

And... a part of him thought to take up her duty in her stead, of keeping it safe and hidden from those that might think to abuse it. Just in case...

"That wasn't a no," Hawke teasingly sang, interrupting his depressive turn of thoughts, "But then, nor was it a yes."

Fenris snorted, realizing then.

They also shared the uncanny ability to get under his skin.

He sighed, letting his hand fall away from his hip to hang in the air, untethered. "You know that I do not trust easily, Hawke," he confessed.

Hawke tilted her head, giving an acknowledging hum. "Which you have plenty of reason to."

Turning away, the man hunched further in his seat, his voice dropping low. "Even during my time spent with the Fog Warriors, I didn't trust them. But after… after Seheron, I met someone. A woman."

"Oh?" There was a hint of teasing still evident in her voice, but the look in Hawke's gaze was enough to know she was listening, and was serious about it.

Still, Fenris felt his ears grow hot once more. "We weren't that close," he muttered with a disgruntled click of his tongue, trying to shake his mind of flesh pressed against flesh, and breathless grins, and dancing laughs. Fighting beside one another alone was exhilarating… Even he sometimes wondered, in the dead of the night and alone to himself, with the only reminder he had of her held between his thumb and forefinger as he gazed at it, of what could have been.

Kagome had been his first of many things — the first person he ever came to truly trust, his first friend, his first partner… The first to make him feel safe, almost, and sometimes he found himself thinking of what other firsts she might have been, if only...

"Would you have used it? Wish yourself and your friend back to your world?"

"No… Staying here wouldn't be the worst thing to happen… And besides, I'd never have met you if I did."

He had tried to ignore his burgeoning attraction to her as they traveled together, and barring a few exceptions he had been successful, too focused on putting distance between himself and Danarius to allow himself the leisure of entertaining such… luxurious thoughts.

How ironic that he finally did after he'd already lost her.

"She saved my life," Fenris told Hawke honestly, "And traveled with me for some time out of the Imperium. I owe her… very much."

And how did I repay her? came the bitter thought, all without fail, By getting her killed.

His hands curled into tight first, the beginnings of a low growl rumbling deep in his chest, as fury warred with the pain and guilt.

"She is also a part of why I intend to end Danarius, once and for all."

By then, all signs of levity had faded from Hawke's face completely. "Hm," she mused, peering back at his wall, still damp with wine, "I feel like I should have waited to throw that bottle," she murmured, trying to lighten the tension. But then she offered him a sympathetic smile as she turned to him and gave a light bump of her shoulder against his. "So, tell me about your mystery lady."

Grateful for it, Fenris's lips twitched, and he began to talk.

At the crack of dawn of one late spring morning, Kagome found herself standing in the middle of the cavern, staring at her muddled reflection in the Eluvian that deposited Shippo and herself along into this world, so many years ago.

"Shippo? Shippo?! Gods, answer me, please… Please wake up…"

Everything ached — her muscles felt stretched so thin and left to burn, like she overexerted each and every one; her bones throbbed with an agonizing pain that echoed in her soul; her head pounded deeply, sending the room to a blurring spin, but she ignored and pushed through it all to crawl and drag her screaming body over to the teen sprawled across the cavern floor, inert. The relief she felt upon seeing his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, with her own two eyes, was staggering. But still she wrapped a shaking hand around his shoulder and gave a weak shake to rouse him, needing to hear his voice, to see him open his eyes, to tell her he was truly fine.

"Ka-Kagome…? Where… where are we? Where is everyone?"

Kagome remembered… clambering to her feet, how it took two, three tries before she had success, Shippo's hands trembling as they wrapped around her own, pulling him up and steadying him, the teen huddling close into her side. HIs eyes wide and round and shot with pain just like hers, as they scanned the cave that held nothing familiar but the mirror standing tall on an altar in the middle, only the violet shimmering glass shared in common.

She remembered their slow venture out of the cave, her startled shout when spiders unlike any other that she'd seen before descended to block their way, only that they weren't demons, Shippo's fumbling attempts to cast foxfire as they skittered towards them. The pair of them stumbling aimlessly from the mouth of the cave until they heard the sounds of crashing waves, following the noise only to find themselves on a shore they didn't recognize, ships sailing far in the distance that flew flags neither could recall ever seeing.

She remembered the first time she touched the Shikon, only to realize — there was nothing. In her daze she had forgotten its very presence, only realizing it still hung from her neck the moment her knuckles had grazed its cold, smooth surface while shedding her clothes to bathe on that second night after waking.

She remembered the dread that pooled in the pit of her belly, as the realization of just how wrong everything around her finally set in.

"Where… where are we, Kagome?"

"I don't know Shippo… I don't know."

What she did know was they weren't home anymore — they were a long ways away and getting back wasn't going to be easy.

Reaching out, Kagome touched the mirror's glass, letting her fingers trail over its murky surface, feeling its power thrumming beneath her fingertips, trapped from under its dormancy.

She found herself contemplating their impending return to said home, as she often did, distantly wondering if it could even be called that anymore after being so long. Nearly eight years now so far, and that was only on her end.

"... I was thinking what home was, exactly…"

Her time with Fenris was the first she ever felt at peace in this world. And while part of it was because it was the first time she allowed herself to open up and become close to another person, to feel such a way, it was more than that. At that point she had long since began to doubt their ability to find a way back to their world, and was beginning to accept it, but it wasn't until then she began to imagine what a life in Thedas might look like.

How long should they dedicate their life to researching a way to reopen passage through the mirror? Another year? Another five? The last eight felt almost like a waste, had it not been for the new lands they traveled across, the new sights, the people they met. But in a few more years, Shippo would have spent more time in this world than their original. She herself already spent more time in Thedas than she did in the Feudal Era.

It was the thought of leaving Shippo alone in the place, however, which had spurred Kagome to continue to look for a way back, despite her growing reluctance. Stuck as they may be, her time was limited, and she still had Shippo — it would only be decades before she would eventually pass on, leaving him alone to live on in a world he didn't belong for centuries to come.

But now a new thought came to her, one that left her wondering — she recalled the looks of wonder on Shippo's face, when they first began to explore this new world, the excitement in his bright emerald gaze as he took it all in, and she wasn't ignorant to the lingering looks he'd often send their newest companion.

Was returning to their old world something he even still desired?

Kagome heard the faint sounds of footsteps approaching, breaking through her train of thought. Her hand fell away from the Eluvian, and she watched through its blurry reflection as Morrigan appeared from behind, only to stop a few paces away at the bottom of the steps. She watched as the mage's head tilted, but couldn't decipher her expression further through the tinted glass.

"You are up rather early," she commented.

A simple-sounding remark at first pass, if one didn't listen closely and missed the hint of underlying curiosity.

"Couldn't go back to sleep," Kagome murmured in reply, and turned to greet Morrigan with a small, polite smile — one that faltered soon after. "If I could ask you a question?"

An eyebrow rising, Morrigan tipped her head, signalling her to continue.

"What are our chances of getting back? Truly?"

The mage blinked, her brows now furrowing. After a moment to consider the question, and how to answer, Morrigan pursed her dark-tinted lips and released a short sigh. "Not well, I am afraid. Activating the mirror is a simple task in comparison — and t'is far from simple. The circumstances around your arrival into my world are rather… peculiar, to say the least. I am not so sure it can be… replicated, or at least, not in a way that would safely ferry the two of you back in your world. As it is, I find taking this one step at a time to be the wisest, and safest, course."

Absently biting her lip, Kagome turned back to the mirror, contemplating. "... Thank you, Morrigan, for your honesty," she eventually said after a moment had passed, before deciding it was time to take her leave. "And for your help. Since I'm up, I'll get an early start on breakfast — I'll let you know when it's ready."

Morrigan blinked after her at her abrupt departure, but said nothing as she left, her golden gaze trailing after the miko as she climbed down the steps and walked away.

As she made her way out of the ruins and towards their camp, Kagome gave a faint sigh, and found her mind once more drifting to a certain, fair-haired elf.

I truly hope you're safe, Fenris...

so what did you guys think? writing these scenes, particularly writing shippo and morrigan, and fenris and hawke together, were a blast haha.

also! since the last time I've updated my dear friends miniroonie and kagomes-lover have absolutely spoiled me with art for this fic. i've got links up on my profile so definitely go check 'em all out! if you guys are reading this, thank you, thank you, thank you again!

and of course, thanks to all who've reviewed, fav'd, and followed this fic! i really appreciate it!

till next time!

rainlily^^