Some Lovers

A 100 prompts challenge on Fenris/LadyHawke by Marianne Bennet

014: Ignore

The sun was setting over Hightown as Fenris approached the newly rechristened Hawke Estate. That idiotic qunari-hating templar Varnell had broken the elf's greatsword a week before and Fenris had had to make do with an inadequate replacement ever since. Bodahn had promised that a dwarven friend of his could mend the blade. Hawke had graciously offered to front the cost but Fenris had declined. He had means of his own, a fact to which she often seemed cheerfully oblivious. She was kind to him; he would grant her that. But he would see how that kindness held up after what had happened… after what had happened.

Earlier that evening, Fenris had received a message that the repair work had been completed and the sword delivered to the estate. And so here he was, despite his trepidation at returning to scene of… It was easier not to think of it. He raised his fist to the door, hammering out a quiet rhythm.

The door opened in response but the answerer was not Bodahn nor Sandal nor any of the other servants Leandra Hawke might have employed. It was just his luck that it would be Hawke but it was not Hawke as he saw her often. This was a… different Hawke: someone in a blue dress that clung to her waist and flared into a full skirt at the hips, whose hair was braided back into a bun at the nape of her neck –he remembered the softness of her skin there where the coils of hair rested though he tried not to think of it when in her presence. Moreover, this was a Hawke who looked back at him with an expression of absolute impassivity, someone who was as hard and unyielding as the diamonds in her ears. He caught his breath at first sight of her and then quickly schooled his expression to match hers.

"I suppose you're here for your sword, yes?" The eyebrow she arched was the look of a trained courtier; he could not help but glean some satisfaction out of the fact she felt she had to guard herself around him. Satisfaction was replaced with guilt when he remembered that she should not have to, that he did not want her to. He nodded and she turned, leading the way into the foyer. "Bodahn is busy but I might be able to fetch it for you."

"Yes," he managed to get out; he had been distracted first by the whisper of her skirt sliding across the flagstones and then by the sound of a man's laughter in the other room. His head jerked up and around at the latter sound. Fenris cleared his throat. "Do you mind… telling me what you're doing tonight?"

Her nose crinkled at the awkward phrasing of the question as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "Mother has invited the seneschal's son to dinner –without my consent, I might add –and Saemus Dumar stopped by. He'll do anything to escape the keep, I guess, even if it means listening to Mother talk on and on about the de Launcets."

"Your mother is still trying to arrange a match for you then."

"And what would you care?" She turned to fully face him, her gray eyes hard. The only thing that could betray her true… anger, anxiety, whatever she felt at seeing him again –was how she twisted the pearl ring on her left hand around her third finger over and over. The ring's setting matched that of her new earrings; Fenris found himself focusing on minute details.

"That's the ring you found in the Deep Roads," he pointed out and felt like a fool for doing so.

He caught her by surprise; she glanced down in confusion. "Yes, I…" She looked back up at him. "I had almost forgotten you had been there."

"I have been many places with you," was his reply and Fenris was struck by the truth of the sentiment. Here he was standing with half-bare feet and she in pearls and yet some twist of fate had brought them together. Had done more than that, if either of them would acknowledge what had transpired close to a month ago. For a moment, looking at her in silk, he thought not for the first time of how in another life she would have made a most desirable magister, a powerful woman whom Danarius himself might have courted. He thought of how in that other world he would have appeared to be a mere slave to her eyes. And that despite that neither of those things was true –Hawke was no magister and he was no slave –the fact that she was still ignoring him made anger boil up inside of him, even if he knew it all came out of a bed of his own making.

"Why didn't you just tell your mother that you had someone waiting for you down at the Hanged Man like you did last time?" Fenris asked before he could stop himself, unable to keep the angry edge off of his tone.

Hawke flushed, gray eyes blazing, and he knew he was going to get it now. "Because," she answered curtly. "That's because last time, I actually had someone waiting for me down there: you. And because I had nothing planned this time around, I decided I was in need of some entertainment."

"Entertainment?" he repeated crossly. "And what does this poor fool think he's getting himself into?"

"I don't know, Fenris!" she snapped back at him, throwing her arms out in mocking supplication. "What did you think you were getting yourself into? What am I getting myself into now? I have no idea but I'm looking for something that might be a little more permanent. Perhaps marriage will prove to be something less negotiable than a one night stand."

"Marriage?" he repeated incredulously.

"We'll see," she replied tersely. "Though I doubt it would come to that. Being an apostate, I can't allow anyone too close. That's the first rule of survival, or so I've been told."

He flinched at those last few words as she probably knew he would. For a moment, he thought he saw regret flicker across her face. "I'll go find Bodahn," she said quietly. "You'd better leave soon. I don't think Mother's guests will be staying much longer and I don't want you ripping any of their hearts out."

Helplessly, he watched her walk away into the main hall. He did not expect to see her again tonight; she would most likely send Bodahn out to send Fenris on his way. His mouth twisted wryly; it seemed he knew her too well. He had known she would be angry; livid even. He felt regret at the thought of her never wanting to see him again, even though this quarrel had not come to that. It's easier this way, Fenris told himself again. He was certain that he would have to repeat this sentiment to himself a great deal more times before he began to actually believe it.

…

A/N: I dreamt up this little snapshot while walking to the convenience store. Unfortunately, by the time I had gotten through with my little philosophical debate with the cashier, I had forgotten half of what I had planned. I'm still very pleased with this though. Please review if you enjoyed it!