"To be frank," Dane muttered, half to himself, half to his (strangely) more sober companion seated next to him on the bed, his legs crossed, "I don't understand the whole thing about some mages being so mad about being sent to Circle." He paused, then corrected himself, "Okay, I can understand a few things, like the corrupt Templars, and the ones that got along with their family that were sent when they were older. However, I will never understand the Magister thing. I mean, how barking mad do you have to be to throw away morals, emotional ties, and sanity just for power?"
"You already mentioned the lack of sanity." Fenris pointed out, bemused by how well, which is to say not at all, Hawke held his alcohol.
"I did? Huh. …Have I been repeating myself?" The mage asked, a definite slur audible now, even as he stretched out on the bed.
"Only the one time, Hawke."
"Well, that's a relief. Anyway, I could understand if the corruption thing was rampant, but it's not. I mean, I've run into some decent Templars. Flames, one even taught Carver how to wield a blade. Sure, I guess that maybe there should be someone outside the Chantry to monitor the Templars and Mages - speaking of which, I wonder why there isn't? - But that branch would likely wind up corrupt too, which means there'd have to be another branch, and next thing you know, the Circle system looks like the Orlesian court, minus the frilly perfumes and silks. Well, one would hope, anyway." He was rambling now, wasn't he? Maybe he should stop drinking… meh.
There was a light pressure against his neck, and he lazily looked up at the elf, who was misleadingly slim, to a human anyway, without the armor on. Fenris, perhaps curious, kneaded lightly, earning a pleased hum.
"You are rather cat-like," The elf murmured.
He was definitely drunk, Dane decided, thinking that he'd heard amusement.
Hawke hummed, leaning into the half massage,and when the pressure began to trail off, he nudged the other.
"Do you mean what you said about the Circle?" The question was followed by the addition, "Even when that would include you?"
The mage nodded, yawning, "Yes, I mean I would certainly hope it wasn't corrupt, and I would want to go there early, but even if I didn't, it wouldn't matter too much. Not like I'm on the best terms with my family to begin with, and it'd be a stable life. Not many things I'd miss, I don't think. Carver, then there's my mabari Maric, the fresh air… you…"
The elf froze, at the last one, waiting for the man to either say it was a joke or otherwise take back the statement, only to hear a sleepy mutter and for the mage to shift closer to him, and found himself pinned between the wall and Hawke. And reluctant to wake the man from what appeared to be an actually restful sleep.
XXXXX
Fenris watched Dane haggle with a merchant over supplies, loitering close enough by to immediately react if someone decided to try something with the mage. After the last time he let the mage go off on his own, what he had managed to put a stop to, he had immediately changed his level of protectiveness for the mage. Not because he exactly liked the mage-which he did not, though he did respect Hawke- but because such attacks were not only disturbingly similar to what some Magisters did to slaves, but could cause the man to call demons.
And Hawke, as powerful of a mage as he was without a demon behind him, would be downright terrifying as an abomination, a fact he would readily admit. The two men seemed to come to an agreement, and Hawke gathered the items, storing them in the bag. The raven-haired man walked over and Fenris fell in step with him as he passed.
"Hey," Hawke prompted, prompting Fenris to look across at him, which prompted him to continue, "We have extra coin. We could see about getting you another sword. If you want, I mean."
For a moment they looked at each other, then Hawke looked away with a nervous laugh, "I guess that's a 'no'."
"Why not," Fenris stated, earning a stare himself, and he added perhaps a bit snappishly, "If you haven't already changed your mind."
"No, you just didn't seem interested; since you are, there's a weapon shop right there…" he pointed at the store.
After roughly a half hour, Fenris had found a suitable blade and Dane was, once again, haggling, this time with the Dwarven merchant to try and get the price lower. It was slightly amusing, watching the Dwarf and human fling half formed sentences at each other, and, apparently, lose nothing in translation. Then the Dwarf nodded, in a reluctant manner, and coin changed hands, and he took it as his cue to walk over.
"You know…" The dwarf muttered, "I'll give you back one of the sovereigns for the blade you have on you now."
Fenris knew if he didn't want to trade the blade in, Dane wouldn't make him, which was oddly, and almost disturbingly, a comforting thought. But they were traveling light, and he wouldn't have any use for a second blade, which was one of the factors that made him reluctantly hand over the blade, taking his new one, and watching the merchant hand Dane a coin from the corner of his eye.
They spent another hour or so of walking in through the market, and checking a few other stores, and picking up information for a few jobs in the town. As they began to return to the Inn, Fenris moved ahead of the other man and dropped his voice a bit. "Thank you."
Strangely, the man looked confused if nothing else.
XXX
Fenris looked back up from cleaning his sword to find the mage staring yet again at the markings, more exposed then usual due to the fact he was in clothes and not his armor. He scowled at the mage.
Dane seemed to noticed and looked away. "Sorry, I know that you don't like people staring at them."
"Then why do you?" Fenris felt annoyed by this particular habit. The mage was an unusual person, but he was beginning to become irritated by the man's attentiveness to the scars; he also had the strange impulse to find something to cover them.
He shrugged helplessly, trying to explain, "I just do. I don't make the conscious decision to stare; I just wind up doing it." Then, with an expression akin to concern, Hawke inquired, "I've seen you flinch when something touches them; do they hurt that badly?"
The concern appeared to have caught him off-guard, and he hesitated for a moment. "I believe it is not so much that they physically hurt, as it is that I expect the pain. Perhaps if I did not expect pain…" He shrugged.
Hawke bit his lip, looking away; thinking about something, then still looking away, mumbled something.
"Come again?" came the prompt.
"What if you didn't expect the pain?" The mage muttered louder, picking at a stray thread on the bed sheet.
The other arched an eyebrow, half in askance, half in wariness, and asking, "How would that be done?"
"… Well… Somebody that you would trust not to hurt you first off all, which means it won't be happening anytime soon anyway and there's no guarantee it would work; just forget I mentioned it." Dane shook his head in emphasis, as if to dispel the topic in that manner.
Instead, he earned a scowl, and a demand of, "Why would I have to trust the person so much?"
Dane sighed, explaining, "Because, it would require sensory deprivation- sight in this case- and someone um… Well touching them or the skin around them in a not-painful way, and can we not talk about this anymore?"
He was relieved when the other nodded in acceptance, cursing himself for even bringing up the fact- or at least the other half of the conversation. How stupid was that, I know that he doesn't trust me that much, flames, the amount he does have in me is damn amazing. He massaged his temples, resisting the urge to groan aloud at his own stupidity, thinking, I should just drop it, try not to stare at the tattoos-markings-lyrium. Regardless of how they are very attractive, especially on him; especially then, even if it is ridiculously hard. Realizing what he'd thought, Dane nearly did groan aloud, cutting it off and making a vague statement about going to bed, making sure to face away from the other man.
XXXX
Long period between updates, but lifes been hell lately, and today I had to go to a memorial service for my Great Aunt-in-law who died peacefully on the fifteenth after a years long struggle against Alzheimer's. As glad as I am, and the rest of the family is, that she went peacefully, it still hurts quite a bit. So, despite the fact she probably wouldn't really care for this sort of story, I'm dedicating this chapter to her.
On another note, thanks for all the favs and adding to story alerts, but can ask for a favor from you guys? Review this, please, I'm a very feedback orientated person, and it would be greatly appreciated.