Title: Hemophobia

Rating: T

Genre: Humor/Romance/Frienship

Characters: Aidyn Hawke, Merry Band of Misfits in full company minus one Sebastian and one off-camera Dog.

Pairing: Hawke/Fenris, Isabella/Merrill

Disclaimer: Still don't own it, though I suppose in the most technical of ways Aidyn is my creation.

A/N: If there is a specific name for fear of one's own blood- it was suggested to me there might be- I can't find it. If anyone can confirm there is a specific word for it, let me know; I'll change the title.

Also, credit for this idea goes to pauljr. The moment they mentioned it, the plot bunny started bouncing like mad in my brain. Thanks for the support and the new personal head cannon!

*Anser-Goose. If anyone knows enough to know if it happens to be incorrect, please do say so. Like the other short, I make no promises about the translation. I wish there was a proper Arcanum work list, similar to the one we have for the Dalish- to my knowledge, we don't. Therefore, I'm doing what a few others have done and basing Fenris's language off Latin.

And just for the curious, I have two female Hawkes, one snarky/aggressive rogue and one aggressive warrior, and three male Hawkes; one snarky/silly mage (Aidyn himself), one diplomatic/silly warrior, and a second mage because I wanted a templar Carver play through, who is also of the more snarky/aggressive personality.

Battles, fights, scraps, brawls, and desperate life-or-death struggles were par for the course if you knew Aidyn Hawke in any way. In truth, they were a part of life in and near Kirkwall in general, for the most part. But being close, personal friends with the Champion of Kirkwall- well, it upped the chances of pain and death disturbingly.

It was something you learned to live with, and in fact, possibly even enjoyed, after a while. When it wasn't life or death, anyway- a brawl in the tavern was usually-usually- harmless, and always a good way to blow off steam.

Not the best way, Isabella would drawl with bounced brows towards Fenris, who would groan and hide his face in a hand while Hawke and Anders sniggered like children in the corner and Merrill usually looked confused, but decent.

Actually, come to that, Merrill didn't look half as confused recently. In fact, she tended to blush and giggle when those comments were made, while Isabella looked on proudly.

Ah, corrupting influences over the innocent and naïve. What friends he had.

Varric panted softly as the last of the chaos from this particular scrape died away, glancing around to his companions, taking tally of injuries. Fenris, tugging Anders to his feet- and that was a sight that made him fairly positive they were all drunker then was healthy- Isabella perched on a table, looking as though bloody nothing had happened, damn Rivani, Aveline kicking the last of the drunkards who'd started it out, and Merrill, who was also being dragged upright by Hawke.

"Squishy mages down." Aidyn teased, steadying her.

"I'll give you squishy." Anders muttered, from where he and Fenris had jerked away from each other and moved about six feet apart, and Merrill pouted.

"No fair. You're a mage, too!"

"I never said I didn't hit the deck." Aidyn chuckled. "But I have a tall, pale and broody knight in tarnished armor to keep me safe."

Fenris glowered.

"With his…massive sword, you mean." Isabella, all innocence.

Fenris glowered harder.

"Do not answer that."

"Yes, ser." Aidyn drawled, mock-sniveling. Then, blurted rapid-fire- "Absoulutlywithhismassiveblade, Bella-Gack!" As Fenris's hand met the back of his head soundly. Varric chuckled, giving Bianca a fond pat before putting her away gently and reclaiming his seat.

Then he frowned.

"Hawke, you said you went down?"

"Hm? Yes, I-Varric, really, that's crossing the line, even for me-"

He snorted, then broke into a low chuckle when Fenris twaped him again. The pair were like fire and ice, complete opposites that complimented each other perfectly. Hawke was good for the elf. He wasn't sure how food for Hawke Broody was, especially with the whole rawr grr mages are evil shtick, but so far, so good. They'd been apart for about three years only to start up again near the start of this one, and they seemed- happy.

"Stop hitting me."

"Hawke-" Hate to break up this little love nest as much as he did, Varric reached out. "You might want to get Blondie to take a look at that." Hawke's arm must have hit a table or chair or the shiny steel edge of someone's blade, because there was a nice little gash ripping through the material of his sleeve on the arm turned towards Varric, and while the cut beneath didn't look horrible (later, he'd have to make it into blood-drenched bone, and edit out the part about Hawke apparently having a lack of feeling on that entire side of his body. Actually, wait, that last part could stay. Oh, could it ever.) but it was bad enough to make Merrill gasp and flinch, and Isabella let out a low, respectful whistle. Blood soaked his sleeve, started down the side of his tunic, and Hawke…

Hawke looked rather suspiciously pale.

"-did you not feel that?" Blondie was saying, pushing off the wall and coming over in full mother-hen mode. The feathers did not help that image at all. "Honestly, Hawke, sometimes I don't-Hawke?"

Varric had been wrong. Aidyn wasn't pale.

Aidyn was white.

"Anser?" That was something else- Varric had no idea what it meant, but Fenris occasionally called Aidyn that- at first, he'd assumed it was some version of Aidyn's name, or some pet term (not that Fenris was prone to fits of public affection) but the first time Aidyn had heard it he'd burst out into laughter and hidden his face. "Not nice." He'd groaned, but he hadn't meant it. And it hadn't gone away. The fact that Fenris had any kind of pet name for Aidyn was enough for him- and Isabella and Merrill, who both giggled like little girls every time he said it.

Well, when Aidyn wasn't loosing blood and not saying a damn word. Anders moved in front of him, turning his head roughly- Fenris growled.

"Broody," Varric said, slowly, "attacking the man trying to help is a bad idea. Don't make me have Aveline muzzle you."

"Hey!" Aveline herself scowled over, at the same time as Fenris did. Double-teamed. Damn it. He didn't wilt under the twin death stares out of sheer force of will.

"Hawke, stop looking at it. Look at me." Anders was ignoring them all, and his voice made Varric sit up and pay attention- he sounded really worried, terse.

"What's wrong?" Aveline asked, brisk and business like- the concern was an undertone at best. She was putting it aside, Varric knew- shelving it until she had time to deal with it. Hawke's breathing had turned shallow and fast, into panting, choked attempts for air, and now Varric was worried. Poisoned blades popped unbidden into his mind, enchanted weapons, poisons and powders and things that could turn a simple fight in a tavern into something far worse. Anders didn't look at her, kept a firm grip on Hawke's chin.

"Hawke. I mean it. Look at me. Deep breaths. I'm going to fix it. I'm going to fix it." His voice had fallen into a soft, soothing cadence. e took Hawke's arm in his other hand. "Fenris- anyone- distract him."

"Distract- wait, Blondie, what-"

"Not now. I would like our fearless leader not to hyperventilate and pass out, so please-"

Varric glanced at Aveline, who nodded, and the pair casually moved forward. Varric knew his size- he had no delusions, he was a dwarf, he was short. But they, along with Fenris positioning himself just so, Isabella and Merrill catching on and finishing the circle- they hide the Champion from prying eyes. Everyone had a weakness. Even the Champion. The difference was, Hawke wasn't allowed to show it, have it- and frankly, there were some things even Varric knew didn't need to be spread all over Kirkwall like some kind of creeping vine.

And then, rasped, from inside their protective little huddle- "'nabesick." And yep, there, pretty as you please- he was.

All over Ander's ruffled feathers.

Their healer, to his credit, was probably pretty damn used to being hurled on. He blanched pale, and closed his eyes, pain and irritation and disgust warring on his expression before it went smooth as blank parchment. "Bucket please." He said, voice unperturbed, but when Merrill dared a giggle his eyes snapped, burning (Varric hopped he imagined that little touch of blue-white glow) to her. She stopped, hands clamped over her mouth and a blush on her cheeks. "Hawke-"

"SorryohMakerAndersI'msorry-"

Alright, that was less funny. Hawke was still white, trembling visibly, his eyes closed, good arm wrapped around his stomach. "I'mreallyreallysorry-"

"Stop that. It's hardly the worst thing I've been covered in." Oh, Blondie was good. Smelled foul, but he was good. He had shucked the jacket and let it hit the floor, barely blinking, and his voice was still in that calm, soft healer-tone. "And it's not the first time someone threw up on me. Here, just hold onto this." He took the bucket Aveline handed him. "Hold that for him, Fenris?"

Broody didn't even mutter. He took the bucket, sliding to a knee where Anders had been and holding the bucket. One hand caressed Aidyn's face, gently petting and at the same time keeping him from turning his head when Anders moved to get better access to the wound.

"One thing at a time. Hawke, stop panting." Anders's tone was firm but gentle, then faded off as he closed his eyes to focus.

"Dizzy."

"Shh, anser. Calm. All is well." Fenris, tone more gentle then he'd ever heard it, low and soft. He was still keeping Hawke from looking, holding his face and petting it all at once.

"Doesn't feel well."

"I'm working on that." Anders, popping back into the conversation. "Let's get him somewhere a little more private, hmm?"

"He can use my bed." Varric said, with a shrug. "Faster then anywhere else." Probably cleaner then half the other places we could take him, too, he didn't add. That wasn't really fair, though it was partly true.

"Good enough." Anders stood, and Fenris gently reached out, pulling Hawke to his feet. The arm was healed, but blood still soaked through, and every time it brushed his side Hawke flinched. He was making low, soft, distressed sounds in the back of his throat that boarded dangerously on whimpering. Still forming a protective huddle, they moved up the stairs, Varric closing and locking the door behind. No sooner was the door locked then did Hawke start struggling with his shirt.

"Alright, alright." Anders seemed to be the only one in the room who not only understood what was going on with Hawke, but accepted it. And the mage wasn't telling, even while Fenris was getting more growly and Merrille clung to Isabella like moss to a tree. The Rivani wrapped an arm around her, soothingly thumbing a pointed ear like you would a cat. Merrill leaned into the touch and sighed, softly.

Oh, for the ability to properly enjoy the sight. Now, though, he barely had enough time to notice it- Fenris had pulled off the shirt, and Anders had sat Hawke down on the edge of the bed. "It's gone." He was saying, softly; he didn't seem to be trying to heal anything else, but he was doing something- he could see a faint glow around his hands, not the blue-white of Anders' extra passenger but soft green. "Hawke- Fenris, run and get me a soft, wet cloth, please." He didn't look away from Hawke. "I think we're safe from any more, um, unexpected stomach rebellions."

"I am sorry." Hawke croaked- he sounded better. Varric let out a breath when Aidyn took his first deeper one.

"If you apologize again I will hit you. . If you really feel bad about it, you can clean my coat for me. Better, get me a new one. Thanks." The last was directed to Fenris, who had done as he'd been told with uncharacteristic obedience. "Maybe you'd better do this part. I'd like to walk away with all my body parts where they're meant to be." He pushed upright- no smart crack from Hawke, which was scary by itself. Fenris took his position kneeling by his lover again, starting to clean away the blood. Anders let out a breath, folded his arms, and made a noise not unlike some irritated parent. Varric lifted a brow, but it was Isabella who spoke.

"Someone care to fill in us poor, non-magical folk?"

Anders sighed. "I don't know. Want to fill them in, Hawke?"

"Oh, shut up." Hawke's eyes were still closed, and he was still pale and trembling- Fenris touched their foreheads together, and he opened them. They were glazed and unfocused, and he didn't seem able to look at anyone in the room. "Just shut up, Anders."

"Then if he's not allowed to speak, you'll just have to tell us yourself." Aveline said, arched. "I must say, I don't appreciate being kept in the dark about an apparently serious problem."

"It's not a problem!"

"It looks like a problem." Merrill, speaking for the first time. When Hawke glared in her general direction- still not meeting her eyes- she squeaked and ducked closer to Isabella. Rivani tucked her into her side, tutting.

"Stop scaring the kitten, Hawke."

"He doesn't scare me-well, okay, maybe a little. Sometimes."

"Hawke is pretty scary. Like a really big Marbari pup. Vicious." Varric added, and when the glare switched to him, he grinned innocently. Sorry, Hawke, you've got nothing on the Combined Power of Broody and Muscles.

"Hawke." Oooh, that was the I'm Dissapointed In You tone every parent had down pat. "What if it had been a real fight? What if next time it is?"

"That wasn't real?" Isabella drawled. "I must be dreaming the massive bruise I'm going to have on my-"

"Isabella, not now."

"Oooh, Aveline. That voice. Do you use that voice on Donnic? Does he-"

"I'mafraidofblood."

Beat.

Beat.

"You're what?"

"I'm sorry, last time I checked you had no problem leaving people dumb enough to attack us, spiders, demons, abominations, and various other fleshy aggressors in small pieces."

"Well. I guess that means Broody doesn't have to worry about you turning to blood magic."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"What a strange thing to be afraid of. Blood can't hurt you, can it? Unless it's a blood mage, that is. I suppose then it could, but that would be the magic you'd need to worry about, not -shutting up, sorry…"

The shrill whistle stopped them all in their babbling. Varric's eyes went to Hawke, who had drawn his knees to his chest and put his face in them. And he instantly felt like a jerk for having made a smart comment; Aidyn's ears were red, and his arms were over his head. Anders- the source of the whistle, which, wow, didn't know Blondie could make a sound that could call a dog from two streets over- was scowling at them all.

"Not other people's blood." Anders snapped, tightly, "Just his own. And considering any time you see your own blood, it's outside your body instead of in, I'd say it's a completely justifiable thing to dislike seeing."

"Thanks, Anders." Said Hawke's knees, in a very soft voice. "'S okay."

"You got a 'why', Hawke?" Varric began, softly, pitching his voice low and gentle. Aidyn responded well to that tone; for all his bluster and bravado, the mage was- shit, just a kid- and not nearly as confident as he pretended to be.

"Yes. Maybe." Said The Knees. "Anders thinks so, anyway."

"And?"

"When we were little, I fell out of a tree. I was trying to show off for Bethy- uh, Bethany. Branch broke, and down I went. I landed on a rock and tore my head open. Not anything serious, but it- bleed. A lot. And I don't have any memory of actually climbing the tree, or what happened between falling and my father coming. But there was…" The Knees whimpered. "It hurt. And there was a lot of blood. It's stupid."

"It is not. Put your damn legs down and talk to us properly." Anders tapped a knee, but Hawke didn't obey. "Hawke."

"It won't change anything. I can normally- I don't let it bother me. Usually."

"You told Anders this." It was the first time in a while Fenris had spoken, and uh-oh flashed bright and red in the front of Varric's mind. He was sure he wasn't the only one who got that unspoken and not me. "How long has he known?"

"He is about two feet away, you know…"

"A few years? I guess." The Knees sighed. "He kind of figured it out by himself. And I figured someone should know, in case I- I don't know, pass out mid-battle or something-"

"What a reassuring thought."

"Isabella, don't be cruel."

"Anyway, he's the healer, so it- made sense-"

"And I told him to share with the class." Anders folded his arms over his chest. "But between he and Carver, I'm thinking of changing Hawke to Stubborn Bloody Mule."

"Am not." Groused The Knees. They now sported a pair of sullen green eyes on top.

"Mature, Aidyn."

"Prig."

"Twit."

"Ass."

"Brat."

"Children." Varric pinched the bridge of his nose. The eyes dissapered.

"I'm going home." Said The Knees. "I've had about all the humiliation I can handle for one night."

"Oh, sweetheart." Isabella, all mockery gone from her tone, replaced by a gentle fondness. "It's just us."

"That's more then enough." The Knees muttered.

"Hawke." Varric sighed, and the Knees looked at him balefully again. "We were just- surprised, that's all. Come on, we're your friends."

"Yes, and what would the city think if everyone knew their Champion wanted to pass out like a little girl- no offense, Merrill-and-Isabella- and the sight of his own blood?"

"None taken, as I am hardly a girl. Or little, for that matter."

"They won't know. Will they, Varric?" For a sweet, cute little air head, Merrill could sound downright threatening when she wanted to. Even if he'd wanted to share this little piece of information to get around, he didn't dare with that tiny kitten growl coming from Merrill's throat.

Didn't help that the kitten could rip you apart with her mind.

"Of course not, Daisy." Varric frowned. "Hawke, I'm with Blondie on this one. It's really just not comfortable having a full conversation with your knees."

Slowly, the legs inched down, revealing a half-naked, half-curled up Hawke. He reached out, as if to touch Fenris's arm- Varric's frown deepened when the elf pulled away. Fenris was looking scowly, and honestly, no. No, Aidyn didn't need this.

What a stupid thing to be jealous over.

"Sounds like you have every reason to dislike blood." Aveline said, mildly, from where she leaned in a corner. "And if you have a reaction like this, every time, it probably doesn't help."

"Not every time." Aidyn muttered. "In a- a battle I'm so focused on you know, not dying that I don't notice. And after Anders found out, he would help, if it was bad. He can't heal it, make it go away, but he can…"

"Do what we did today." Varric noted that Anders had pointedly said we. "Clean him up, keep him calm, keep things from getting worse. I've seen people pass out over something like this." He chuckled, then quickly stiffled it when Hawke snarled at him.

"Not bloody funny-" He stopped, then groaned and put his face in his hand, waving the free one. "Alright, I gave you that one. Run with it."

Isabella tutted, sauntering over to take the spot Fenris still refused to claim, arm over Hawke's shoulders. He leaned into the touch, head propped on her own shoulder.

"It's no fun when you're not playing, too." She'd started combing her fingers through his hair, but there was nothing sexual in it. Isabella was as caught by Merrill as he'd ever imagined her to be able to be…and she knew damn well how fast her insides would become her outsides if she tried to take what was the Elf's.

"It hasn't changed anything so far." Merrill pointed out softly. "In fact, this is the first time anything's happened because of it. So what's the problem?"

"You did say you weren't likely to go down in a fit of panic in the middle of a fight." Varric agreed, with a shrug. "I'm glad we know- now we won't kill ourselves trying to figure out what's wrong if this happens and Blondie isn't there."

"That's it? No mockery, no bad jokes I completely deserve, no anything?"

Isabella laughed softly. "We're not that cruel, sweet thing." She kissed his forehead. "Why don't you go home. A nice bath, a drink, Fenris…preferably all three at once. No better way to get over it, yes? I wouldn't complain about being invited to that party."

Aidyn laughed for the first time, a weak little sound, and sent a questioning look towards Fenris.

"You don't have to. I'll be alright now."

"You're still unsteady. I'll not let you walk though Lowtown shaken, half drunk and alone." Fenris muttered, sounding exasperated. "Come." He extended a hand, and Aidyn paused before he took it.

Good, Varric thought, they're have hot, possessive, jealous sex and I won't have to worry about Hawke crying his bruised heart out in his drink in my room.

And if a little voice added, now I can stop worrying about Hawke in soft, brotherly tones in the back of his mind, he crushed it swiftly.

They did not have hot, possessive, jealous sex. Well, not at first. At first, it was why didn't you tell me and can't I have secrets, Maker knows you don't share everything, elf, and Nothing I keep from you has the potential to put us in danger and oh, gee, well, thanks for the concern, Fenris, go home now.

Then it was I am home, stop being a stubborn fool and you spend a lot of time away from it for it being home, and you know why I don't stay, and do I? Really? Wow, nice to know you can read minds with those markings, too, and don't be a brat and then you have no room to talk, acting like me telling Anders something I didn't tell you is on par with me- jumping him or something. That's not hot, it's irritating, and I'm sorry I expected you to trust me with something so significant after all I have trusted you.

And then it was trusted me? Maker, Fenris, you think I should be locked up in the Circle!

Then it was a long, stunned, hurt silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I know you don't. And I understand what it's taken for you to-"

"Perhaps you're right. I should go."

"Oh, sod my damn mouth- Fenris, wait. Wait!"

"You're still drunk and shaken. You should sleep it off."

"No, that's not the way tonight is going to go. Come on, Fenris, you know my mouth gets ahead of me, sometimes. I didn't mean it."

"I once heard from a man that no one actually says things they didn't mean- only things they didn't mean to speak aloud. Let go of me, Hawke."

"No- Fenris please don't go again, please- I just got you back. Don't storm away from me over this, not now-"

"…Aidyn."

"Please."

"Aidyn-"

"…Please."

"Shhh, hush, anser. Hush, now."

"I'm sorry I said that. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It's just- I hate being so weak, that a little blood-"

"Water."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm frightened of water. Open water, that is. I can swim well enough to keep from sinking like a stone, but being unable to see what is around and under me clearly sets my nerves on edge. Not knowing what is with me, where I can't see. Along with being handicapped in movement and senses- it frightens me."

A sniffle. "Anders did the same thing, told me what he was most afraid of." A weak laugh. "Both of yours make sense, though."

"I must say, he has a point in that one's blood outside the body is- disconcerting. It's a reasonable thing to dislike-"

"But not to the point of passing out!"

To his own surprise, Fenris spoke next without thinking beforehand. Perhaps Aidyn was a contagious entity; he never did that.

Well. Not never. But hardly as often as his quick-silver-tongued lover.

"At the very least, there is no danger of you becoming a blood mage."

Aidyn's jaw dropped. For a heartbeat, Fenris kicked himself- started to open his mouth, to apologize-

The laughter was soft and low and sweet, growing as Aidyn caught the look on his face.

"Oh Maker- from you, Fenris, really? Oh, that was beautiful." Aidyn wrapped his arms around Fenris's neck, pressed his slender face into his collar bone. "You are the most wonderful person ever."

He blinked. "Hardly." He murmured, even as he wrapped a hand around the back of Aidyn's head and stroked the thick, auburn hair.

"You are. And I'm being a silly- well, goose- aren't I?"

"You are forgiven. You can no more help that then the sky can help being blue."

"I…you are mean, you know that?"

"A moment ago, I was wonderful."

"Wonderfully mean."

Fenris chuckled, wincing slightly- more for effect then out of actual pain- as Aidyn thumped him in the shoulder with a light punch.

"I am terribly sorry to have been so cruel." He purred, as Aidyn pouted and folded his arms across his chest. "Dearest Aidyn. Is there any way I could make up for my indiscretion?"

And then they had hot, possessive, jealous sex. So it all worked out in the end, really.