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Fenris and Hawke had been undeniably drawn together from the moment they first met. As was often the case with unbonded alphas, and omegas, their body chemistry signaled the compatibility of a mate almost as soon as they encountered each other - even from across a room. From there, instinct took over and a potential mate would seek out the source of the intoxicating pull relentlessly, until the bond was completed with the bite or some other circumstance proved them wrong. Nature was hardly ever wrong.
From the instant of their first meeting in an alley at the Kirkwall alienage, Hawke had felt the tingle and urge of a desirable omega in Fenris. Standing in the lamplight, corpses all around, he had listened to the oddly marked elf with only half of his attention. The other half was fully absorbed in how beautiful the elf was, how his hair shined in the subdued light and how desperately the mage wanted to bury his face in the pale Elvhen neck, drawing in the sweet cinnamon and orange smell of him. He would only find out later that the alluring elf had been drawn to him as well.
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Fenris didn't want an alpha, and especially didn't want to bond with one. Omega warriors are a study in conflict. The brutality a warrior carries in his weapon arm, and his heart, lives in absolute contrast to the nurturing, submissive nature of an omega. It is rare that an omega would choose this path, but Fenris had come from hard and painful beginnings, and the strength it took to overcome this had defined him in spite of nature. It was because of this that the elf fought against his bond with the mage tooth and nail. After weeks of facing one challenge after another together, he had admitted to himself that Hawke was his alpha, that the pull between them was indeed that strong - and for more reasons than just biology - but the idea of being owned, of belonging to someone, even someone he loved, was too much.
It was months before Hawke was able to mate him, but courtship was often part of the dance between pairs, and Hawke faced this challenge with the same determination he had faced all others, and eventually Fenris gave in.
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Fenris should have known that going out tonight was a bad idea, but the next few days were going to be hell and this was his last opportunity to feel normal until it was over. According to his schedule, he had at least twelve hours before heat, and he wanted food, and wine, and even the company of the annoying dwarf, so he'd headed to the Hanged Man to see what he could find.
He'd been disappointed to find that Hawke wasn't here. Lately his thoughts about Hawke, his desire for him, had become a full on distraction. He cursed his biology silently, again, and settled in at a table with Varric. They ate and drank together, he and the dwarf, laughing as Varric told another one of his tales, and every now and then he would lift his face, testing the air for a sign of the mage, but there was nothing.
"Fenris, cut it out. He'll be here," from Varric, who was kidding more than prodding. "He's mad about you, you know. I can't see why you're putting off the inevitable. Everybody but you knows how this will end." He smiled fondly, and winked, but Fenris was nonetheless irritated.
"Varric, I know how it will end, but that doesn't make it as simple as you suggest. Would you want to be owned?" Fenris grumbled the words. They had had this discussion before.
"I'm a beta, Fenris. That's all well and good, but if you're asking me if I'd enjoy the thrill of being so meaningful to a mate's life that we could actually die without each other, the answer is yes, I would. Go ahead and own me. And it's really not like that, anyway. You don't know how good you've got it with him, my friend." The dwarf sighed, wistfully, "But, we've been down this road. You do what you've got to do. I'm just a spectator." Varric grinned at the elf, who smirked back, friendly enough. It was then that Fenris caught a man at the bar staring and the passing glance of another one from across the room. It was time to go.
He stood, checking for Hawke again, and again was disappointed. "Looks like I need to cut out early, Varric. I'll be busy a few days," he said with a smile at the dwarf. "Thanks for the company. Mind yourself." The dwarf had picked up the scent by then and offered a wink back. "I'll be sure to send Hawke around if I see him," he taunted and laughed, knowing that was the very last thing Fenris wanted him to do. Going through heat alone was excruciating, but the elf had decided long ago that he would not mate with Hawke because his treacherous body compelled him to. Consent was a questionable thing with a heating omega, and the former slave would let nothing force him into something he wasn't ready for, including the hormones that polluted his blood. Most of all the intoxicating pheromones of the captivating alpha mage.
Fenris left in the dark and quiet night air, unaware that he was being followed. The fog of heat was coming, and he was distracted by the chaos of aromas that drifted through the air. He was only twenty paces from the tavern when the pungent musk of alpha fell upon him. The elf spun and drew his sword.
A dark figure, then two more, emerged from the shadows. The tallest of them spoke, the greasy ugly words falling from his mouth like spoiled meat. "Ah, pretty omega all alone in the night. " He made a deliberate gesture of sniffing the air then spewed again, "You're in heat, omega. Perhaps you'd like the boys and I to give you a hand with that?"
Fenris waved the sword through the air in front of them. "You touch me and your diseased cock will not be the only thing I remove from your body, alpha," Fenris hissed back, raising the sword to point at the stranger's neck.
Fenris struggled to draw in a breath, feeling the hormones begin to surge, his heat coming sooner than planned, sooner in fact that might be manageable. The leader took another step forward and Fenris took a step back. The acrid smell of all three of the alphas was now discernible on the wind, separate and distinct. The elf felt his body respond, and then the immediate need to vomit the dinner he had just consumed. Maker, no...
An omega in heat is driven by only one thing: the agonizing, uncontrollable need to mate. Fenris was no more able to stop his body from wanting penetration than he was to stop it from breathing. He could feel it washing over him as the alpha pheromones polluted his brain. In the haze of a heat cycle, it wouldn't matter who - or where - but Fenris wasn't yet blessed with that ignorance. He was still aware of himself, and the filthy scum who were advancing on him, and terror and humiliation began to press on his mind. The shadows advanced again. "Come on then, elf. You know you want it. Let's have a go, just the four of -"
The man's words were cut off instantly as a ball of fire exploded in his chest. He collapsed to the ground, dead before he fell. Fenris turned, sword raised again, only to find Hawke, another fireball swirling in his hand, ready to kill again. "Run, you filthy maggots. You've got 'til count of two..." the mage uttered in rage. The remaining shadows were gone before the count of one.
Hawke ran to Fenris' side, pulling him into his arms. "Fenris... Maker, tell me you're alright." He held him close, stroking his hair. The elf, whose heat had been brought fully on by the scent of his mate, pulled on the mage's tunic, leaning against him. "Yes, I'm - I need to get home." And the alpha, spurred on by the need to take care of him, and fighting the impulse to breed him every step of the way, took him home.
They spent three days together, at Hawke's manor, because the rotting mansion that Fenris inhabited offered little comfort. In his last moments of clarity, Fenris admitted to himself that his desire to be naked and willing in Hawke's bed had little to do with being an omega and everything to do with being a man. He told Hawke so, and the mage was only happy to finally oblige.
There was no breathtaking sweetness of a first time together. In the full fog of the heat cycle, good intentions were meaningless, and they rutted and fucked with reckless abandon. There were moments when the intensity lifted, and Hawke would hold the omega tight in his arms, murmuring words of praise and desire, and then the urge would consume them again, and Fenris would plead for the feel of the mage inside him, and Hawke would be there, over and over, mating until exhaustion necessitated sleep.
On the third day, Hawke scented the soft, salty stretch of the omega's neck, and knew that it was nearly over. At last they had mated, and the warmth and devotion he felt for his omega was brighter than the sun. "Fenris..." he nuzzled into his ear. The elf arched back against him, pulling the alpha's arm tight against his chest. "Hmm..." he murmured, still half asleep. Hawke moved back, rolling the elf over to face him, and Fenris opened his eyes, smiling up at him.
"Fenris, I love you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, and I will feel this way until I die. I want the bond, Fenris, but I won't take it from you. You have to tell me it's okay."
Fenris blinked, the haze of sleep and the quiet comfort of Hawke's arms around him suddenly gone from his mind. "Hawke, I - I ..." he trailed off, sitting up then in the bed. He looked down at his hands, voice soft and full of regret. "Hawke, I can't. I love you, and I am your omega, in all the ways that matter. But I can't let you own me. I just can't." Hawke said nothing, watching as Fenris dressed. The elf looked back over his shoulder before he left, sorrow in his eyes. "It's too much, Hawke. Forgive me."
The next time he saw him, Fenris wore Hawke's favor tied around his wrist. The cloth was the bright red of the Amell family crest, and couldn't be missed against the dark armor of the warrior's arm. They shared a smile about it, but never a word. It wasn't the bond bite Hawke wanted between them, and would mean nothing to a hungry alpha, but it meant enough to him.
He would be heartbroken as it turned out. Their talk of final bonding had pushed the warrior even further away than before.
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Over the next year, Fenris fell into heat three times, and Hawke spent each of them with him. Now that they had mated, sustaining the unspoken tension about their bond wasn't worth , the suffering the omega would endure without him. Fenris carefully took the herbs that prevented pregnancy, and each time, the alpha would fill him and sate his cravings. When it was over, he would bathe his lovely omega, showering him with tenderness and praise for the bruising, biting and spreading he'd gone through again. Each time, Fenris would leave when it was over and they wouldn't speak of it again.
The pair spent most of their days together, adventuring and facing the crises of the city, but rarely in each other's beds. The warrior elf never stopped fighting the pull of the connection to his mate, and he was often cold, brooding and distant. As the strongest alpha in Kirkwall, Hawke could have tended his desires elsewhere, but there was more than chemistry between he and the elf, and he simply wasn't interested. He loved Fenris, and took care of him, and waited for him.
The year went by.
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A change had come over Fenris in the few days since Danarius was ended in a bloody heap on the tavern floor. He was lighter, calmer, more relaxed than before. Hawke would never mention it out loud, but he was sure he was seeing more omega and less resistance, and it melted him inside. Yes, the alpha in him responded to seeing his omega soften and feel joy, but Hawke the man was indeed in love with Fenris the elf, and the idea that the torture of Fenris' painful past might be finally behind him, warmed him and made him smile.
The mage leaned against a table in the kitchen of the manor, a half eaten apple in his hand, and Fenris came into the room, smelling of impending heat. He was sure he'd seen the beginnings of a smile on his lover's lips and he was instantly curious what the omega might be up to.
"Something on your mind, Fen? You realize of course there is no need to seduce me. You'll get more than enough in an hour or two." He winked at him then, now standing face to face, just inches apart. Fenris wrapped his long arms around Hawke's shoulder's and kissed him lightly, the smile just a bit more obvious. He turned then, releasing his hold on the mage, and leaned his back against him, casually tipping his head to one side and offering his neck.
Hawke was nearly undone. This was most definitely not how Fenris behaved. His nuzzled into the warm flesh of his mate, inhaling the smell of him, unashamed in his desire. He opened his mouth and drug it slowly, wetly, across the elf's the muscle and skin, leaving a trail with tongue and teeth, and wrapped his arms around the omega's waist, pulling him in. He murmured something soft and sweet into the space below his ear, then rested his chin contentedly on his shoulder. "What's on your mind, da'mi," he asked quietly.
Fenris folded his arms across Hawke's in front of him and snuggled back into him. He had decided it was time. The magister who had owned him was dead, and the suffocating sense of possession wasn't there anymore. He loved the mage, and in recent days belonging to him had become all that mattered. His voice was low, and he hesitated when he spoke. "I'm ready, ma vhenan. If I haven't made you wait too long, and while I still have a clear head, I want you to know that I am ready, and I want the mark. I want everyone to see that I am yours."
Behind the elf, Hawke was barely able to contain his joy, and the obvious tone of submission sparked a wave of arousal that rolled all the way through him. He turned his mate around in his arms, and putting his hands to the elf's face, stared into his eyes. He searched their shining green depths for a moment, looking for clarity and certainty - and found them both. "Fenris, I would have waited until the last star blinked out in the sky," he whispered, then kissed him more deeply and desperately than he ever had before.
An hour later, the all-consuming desire of the omega's heat came over them both. There was no need for tenderness or intimacy, in truth, there was no want of it either. They fell breathless and sweat-covered into the bed, and Hawke took Fenris with deep and pounding strokes. The omega groaned his name, and begged for more, and the mage fucked and rutted into him with the savage possession his mate longed for. Then, in a blinding collision of biology and the most perfect love their ever was, the alpha sank his teeth hard into the omega's neck, just where it met his shoulder, and held him there until the last brutal thrusts spiraled into a flooding, maddening pleasure beyond anything Hawke had ever known. His teeth sank deeper as he felt his release, and Fenris cried out in exquisite pain, knowing that this was their moment, and that the blood that flowed from the wound meant they were bonded, flesh and soul, forever.
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