"Maker, can't I do anything right?"
"I didn't come here to be treated like a child."
"Well you could stop acting like one and see how we go from there."
"This book has pictures, Hawke."
"It's a book of fairytales, Fenris. It's the easiest place to start because - guess what? Everyone has to start somewhere!"
"I knew this was a waste of time." Fenris growled at her and pushed the book on the table away from him.
"You haven't even tried yet." She snapped back, just as frustrated as he was. She had set out the desk ahead of time, probably quite some time ago. Events had unfolded that had rather overshadowed the apparent need to teach Fenris to read. A one on one duel to the death with the Arishok to end a violent invasion was one thing. Losing her mother barely days before that left a whole other set of wounds for Hawke to bear. After some months of recovery, she had finally recovered completely from that limp and had been looking for other things to focus on. Fenris had almost – quite deliberately - forgotten about the whole reading ordeal.
That was until Hawke had followed him from the tavern one night and casually brought up the subject of him coming over some night soon. He had attempted to reply noncommittally, hoping to avoid it but she had insisted, mentioning it when they next met on a Tal-Vashoth hunt, again as she visited his mansion with a gift of food to replenish his woefully stocked kitchens, once more as they met in the marketplace.
It was possible his unwillingness to comply now was, in his mind, a form of payback for her own bull-headed pestering of him until he finally gave in and told her when to expect him.
So now he was sat in the chair, twisted so that he could more effectively glare at her as she met his gaze with every bit as much obstinacy. Eventually he looked away, concentrating on the desk of implements in front of him.
"Then what would you have me try?"
"First step, the alphabet." Hawke stepped forward then, reaching for a pen and pulling a leaf of paper towards herself. She then began drawing letters. He frowned down as her pen swooped across the page, easily creating those confounded things and at the same time still continuing to talk. "I'm not here to patronise you, Fenris. You tell me if I'm doing that, telling you what you already know and I'll move on. Easy as that."
She lifted her pen when she had written a line of neatly spaced letters and gave him a look, inviting him to comment on the task. He stared at the markings on the page, then dropped his eyes to his own lap.
Anger was so much easier than this.
"It means nothing to me, Hawke."
"Then here's where we begin. The letters. This one here is a. Then b and c." Her voice was steady, she put it simply and business like and it almost helped Fenris forget the infantile nature of the task. He quietly repeated the noises as she pointed them out, mouthing out the sounds more than he actually voiced them as they worked along the line of letters. She didn't push him for more and he was grateful.
"j… and k. So, if you try writing them down, it might help to memorise them." She lifted up the pen she had been using and gestured towards the other laying in front of Fenris.
And he had no idea how to even hold it.
Still he tried. It was a useless, fiddly little thing and his thumb just couldn't feel right sitting that way that Hawke was showing him. A sword he knew, he could trust it to fit in his hand and give him what he wanted. A pen was…alien.
A thing for crafting, creating, when he knew best how to cut down and break. He made the first letter, a, he thought as he tried to copy Hawke's smooth curve with his own unresponsive hands. How had she made this look so simple?
He dropped the pen with an aggravated grunt, aborting his crude attempt. It was wrong, it didn't work and he was tired.
"Fenris!" Hawke protested as he pushed the chair back.
"Hawke, I appreciate your efforts but you are not required to fix me."
She stuttered for a moment as he rose to his feet, but she swiftly mimicked the action, "I'm not trying to fix you! I thought you wanted to learn."
"Did you? After you damn near dragged me into your house with your incessant pestering."
"Oh, that's right, I'm a terrible person for trying to help."
"You can stop trying."
She let out an unladylike noise of frustration, "You know, your stubbornness would be put to much better use if you decided you were going to give it a try instead of that you were going to give up."
She had hit a nerve. "I'm not giving up! And I have been trying. I'm deciding not to waste my time - and yours - on pointless frivolities." He was backing away from her again and this time she stayed where she was, letting him go. He pretended he couldn't see the disappointment in her face.
"Then you've made up your mind." The defeat in her voice left him feeling hollow, this was certainly no victory. He glanced at the desk behind her, the pile of books she had picked out and the papers she had planned on using. But he stood up straighter, deliberately meeting her eyes.
"I think it's better for both of us." She looked at him as though she had been struck. He didn't mean that, not exactly, but he knew he wanted to be out of there, before he kept saying things that left her with that expression. He had hurt her enough for one lifetime already.
He turned and had reached the doorway when her voice carried over to him.
"It's your choice, but know that I'm not giving up." He looked over his shoulder to see her standing defiantly, meeting his eyes with a challenge.
He left, like a coward.
Well this is what i've written so far, so you have to wait (not long) for the next chapter