My new story! It will be quite long, I think, I hope you will like it. :)
The story begins between Act 2 and 3, one year after the Qunari attack. So, Isabela does not appear in the first chapters.
It will eventually become M!Hawke x Fenris. Rating will also go up in later chapters.
"TO ARMS!"
"I see... They will never learn, won't they?"
"I don't think it really matters, Hawke!"
The rogue couldn't agree more as several men came out of their hiding place, swords and daggers drawn, ready to get ride of the intruders. Considering the abrupt call given just as he entered the warehouse with his friends, talks and negotiations were out of questions. Varric had been right about his trail on slavers.
He wasted no time and took his daggers in hands, just as Aveline and Fenris walked ahead of him, swords out.
"Looks like I was right again, Hawke!" said his dwarven friend as he loaded his crossbow and started firing at archers that were aiming at them.
"I never doubted it!" He replied before joining in the fight. It wasn't the first time that they took out slavers in Lowtown. Their activities had been on a rise since the Qunari attack. Something that did not surprise Aveline. Even now, one year after the attack, Kirkwall's population was still learning to close the wounds. Especially in Lowtown and the Harbor quarters. Harmless places for slavers.
It wasn't hard for Hawke to convince Aveline to let him come to help. Stating that being the Champion of Kirkwall, the population would appreciate to see him helping the City guards. Of course, the Guard-Captain didn't believe he was doing this out of his good heart, but he didn't care much...
"I owe you a beer!"
"Quit joking Hawke!" Aveline said before decapitating a slaver. Hawke winced faintly, hoping she didn't imagine him at his place, before throwing his dagger into a slaver's back. Fenris just stayed silent, fighting the remaining slavers with a true rage. Nothing could motivate the elf more than killing slavers. The rogue knew it and thus, it wasn't difficult to convince the elf to come with him.
It was also a good excuse to spend time with his former lover... even if they weren't alone.
"I think that was the last one." Varric said after the last man fell on the ground. "Well done, isn't it?"
"That was... brief but clean." Hawke said with a shrug. "If spilling blood can be considered as clean... but I expected more resistance."
"Indeed..." Aveline said "But Hawke, I'd appreciate if you-"
"Hold." The trio all looked at Fenris, who just held out his hand to the group, looking around with a frown. "I can feel something... foul."
"Like what?" Hawke asked walking over. "Fenris, what's going-"
"Look out!" The rogue didn't have time to react before the elf pushed him violently on the ground. As he fell on his back, he heard a crashing noise on his right, and Aveline calling Fenris's name. He opened his eyes in time to see Varric bending down to help him on his feet and... seeing Fenris on the other side of the room in the middle of crashed wooden crates. He wasn't moving anymore.
"Fenris!" He said worriedly as he stood up. Varric took his crossbow back in hands and nodded at Aveline.
"Troubles ahead!" Sure enough, the rogue could see at a few feet a man dressed in dark robes, coming out of a room on the other side of the warehouse. Just like his arms and hands, the floor was crimson with blood. He started chanting and waving his hands as shades appeared around him. Aveline rushed past the rogues, her sword and shield in hands. Hawke knew he had to go and fight the maleficar as well, but he also wanted to help Fenris. Making sure he was alright. "Fenris, answer me!"
"Move it, Hawke!" Aveline called as she blocked a shade's attack. "Help would be welcome!"
"Right!" Reluctantly, he cast one last worried look at the fallen elf, before joining her, directly aiming at the mage who dared hurting him...
"Vishante..." The elf grumbled as he opened his eyes. His head felt light, his vision was blurring and a hissing noise was giving him a serious headache. He started to move, slowly sitting up. His limbs felt heavy, his skin tender, and he could also feel the hot feeling of blood streaming down his face. The blood magic attack had been violent, but Fenris didn't care. He still had enough strength to fight.
"Fenris!" He winced faintly at the loud voice that belonged to the blurry figure sitting down in front of him. "Ah, sorry... I'll keep it down."
"It will be much appreciable, Hawke..." the elf mumbled, as he looked up. As much as he could see, Hawke didn't seem wounded. He was safe. He felt both relieved and angry that the same time. The fool man didn't see the attack coming. Thank the Maker he pushed him out of the way in time.
If said-Maker did exist.
He blinked and breathed slowly as the hissing noise slowly faded away. The blur slowly disappeared as well, revealing the human rogue holding a potion with a red liquid inside. A healing potion. "I'm fine, Hawke. This mage..."
"Dead. Here, take this. It will help."
"It is not necessary, Hawke." Fenris said, frowning at the potion. "As I said, I am-"
"You drink or I imake/i you drink it. Your choice." The rogue replied, waving the bottle in front of the elf's face with a frown. "And I won't take 'no' as an answer, Fenris. You wouldn't want your pretty face to remain in this state, would you? Or maybe I should bring you to Anders. I'm sure he'll be delighted to help you. Then-"
"Fine." The elf glared at him before snatching the potion from the man's hand. Anything, if it meant that the man would shut up. Removing the cork, he saw him smiling. "Stop this."
"Stop what?"
"Smiling like that." he said, bringing the small phial to his lips. "It's..."
"The man's smile was breathtaking, and the fallen elf could feel a shiver going up his spine. How could someone look so handsome? He was beginning to wonder if he was still dreaming..." Fenris almost chocked on the potion as he heard Varric. The dwarf was standing near them with a grin, gently wiping the blood that spilled on Bianca during the fight. "What? I still have a book to finish. Anything can help."
"I didn't need to hear this..." Fenris mumbled before finally swallowing the potion. He could feel the wounds closing, his head didn't feel so light anymore. But now he could feel his cheeks heating up. Damn dwarf...
Before Varric could reply, a cough interrupted them. Hawke looked a bit flushed as he stood up, rubbing the back of his head.
"Well, anyway, we... we're done, here, aren't we?"
"Leave the rest up to the guards." Aveline said, walking over. "I will go back to... what's this?"
Aveline stopped talking and frowned. No one asked her what was wrong, because they could all hear it: light footsteps, close to them. Fenris took his great-sword and stood up slowly, followed by Hawke. He couldn't feel the foul blood magic in the air anymore. It couldn't be a mage. They all stayed quiet for a moment, and then the sound of small footsteps started again. The group stayed silent, trying to spot where it came from. But whoever was still in the warehouse, they weren't careful enough to be quiet. More like in a hurry to get away.
Fenris wouldn't have it. If a slaver was still here, then this place would become his grave.
When the foot steps stopped, Fenris showed no hesitation. He knew exactly where to look.
"Fenris?" He heard Hawke saying behind him as he walked toward two large wood crates, his steps steady and fast once again, thanks to the healing potion. His weapon firmly in his hands, he kicked the crates out of the way, ready to hit whoever was hiding behind.
What he didn't expect to see was a child. A male elven child, whose eyes widened in terror at his sight. The boy screamed in fear.
"Mama!" Too stunned to act, Fenris watched as the child crawled away from him, and cowered in a corner. He was trembling badly and crying.
"Oh Maker..." Just as he lowered his sword, he heard Hawke running toward him, followed closely by Aveline and Varric. All of them stayed silent as they saw the child. He was dressed in badly worn gray clothes, small and frail tanned arms wrapped around his head in a poor attempt to protect himself.
"Now, that... was not expected." Varric said behind him. "I didn't know there was any slave here."
"Let me." Fenris looked at Hawke, who stepped forward, his face carefully blank, before kneeling at a few feet from the child. "Hey... hello there. The bad men are gone, you're safe now."
Hawke's voice was very soft, gentle. Fenris wasn't sure if he'd get the child to relax, considering what happened a few minutes before. But the way Hawke was talking... it was soft and relaxing. He hadn't heard Hawke talking like that since...
The warrior frowned faintly, trying to banish these thoughts from his mind. It was not the right time for this. It was the past, anyway.
Sighing very lowly, he watched as Hawke kept talking to the boy. The child wasn't moving for a moment, his head still buried in his arms.
"I'm here to help you, little one." Hawke continued. "Look at me... please."
For a moment, there was still no reaction. It took a few minutes before the child finally removed his arms and raised his head. Black hair was falling into his eyes, wide as they looked at Hawke. The trembling wasn't as bad as when Fenris found him. Yet, he still didn't come any closer to the man. The rogue tilted his head.
"Can you understand me?" He asked, the tone of his voice unchanged. The child said nothing for a moment before slowly nodding. "My name is Hawke. And I'm here to bring you to safety. No one can hurt you anymore, I promise."
Fenris saw the child's gaze shifting to him and the trembling started again. He whimpered, pointing at the warrior, who kept himself from cursing. He had scared him to death with his assumption that it was another slaver hiding, and not a child. He stepped back, knowing that it was not a good idea to stay within the boy's eyesight.
"Elf..." He looked down at Varric, who smiled in sympathy. He had guessed what was going on. "Come on, let's go to the Hanged Man. Hawke and Aveline can deal with it."
"I..." The words died in his mouth as Aveline looked firmly at Fenris and nodded. It was obvious that leaving was the best option. "... Fine."
The dwarf nodded and walked pass him. He wasted no time to follow, knowing there was nothing more to do for now. Aveline and Hawke would make sure the child was brought to safety. Strange enough, it reminded him of something... but he couldn't put a finger on it.
He groaned lowly and stepped outside, hoping the cold air would calm him down... and maybe some wine. If the Hanged Man had any drinkable one...
It was a strange relief to know that Fenris was gone. Hawke knew it was necessary. The warrior had unwillingly scared the child badly, thinking he was going to be killed and crying for his mother...
Aveline had left Hawke's side to check the room where the blood mage had came from. Now, the child looked less scared. He still didn't come any closer to Hawke, but was now looking at him with curiosity.
"Where's mama?" He asked in a small and hesitant voice. The man swallowed with difficulty, not knowing what to answer. Either his mother wasn't here, or... worse.
"I... don't know." he said gently. "I'm sorry, but... you're the only one here."
"Mama told me to run when... the bad man..." the child said, shaking again. "He said... he wanted blood."
"Maker..." Hawke heard Aveline saying from away. She sounded angry. "They... They're all dead, Hawke."
"Who?" Hawke took his eyes off the child and looked behind him. Aveline came back, her face paler than usual.
"A few men and women... and even a child. Hawke, I think they were the slaves."
The rogue had to swallow back the bile coming from his stomach. They were all dead... meaning the mage had used their blood to fuel his power... meaning that this child was very likely the only survivor. And now, an orphan.
He looked back at the child, who was sniffing.
"Mama?" he asked in a small voice. Ignoring the sad sigh behind him, Hawke gently held out his hand to the child, who stared at it.
"Come with me, little one." he said, still using the same gentle voice. He forced a smile too. A small one. "I promise I will bring you to safety. I won't let anything happen to you."
He couldn't possibly blame the child to still be scared. He had been in the hands of slavers and after everything that had happened... still, the rogue wanted to try. He couldn't leave this child alone here, nor did he want to force him to get out. The boy had to do it.
As he waited, he started thinking about how this situation reminded him of his family. Of Bethany and Carver. When they were very young, thunderstorms used to scare them. As their protective elder, he would try to comfort them, holding them at night... especially Bethany. Carver would sometimes pretend to be fine, until a particularly loud thunder would make him scream and join Bethany in their older brother's embrace.
Such memories... but it was a long time ago. He felt his smile widened sightly, before it disappeared.
Only memories.
He was brought back to reality as he felt a small hand touching his. He blinked and realized that the young boy was now in front of him, looking very hesitant, wide blue eyes looking at him in curiosity through thick black lock of hair. With a smile, he brought his arms very slowly around the child, as if to give him a chance to back away if he wanted to. But the boy didn't move. He was still shaking faintly, but didn't look like he wanted to run away. With a small nod, he wrapped his left arm around the small boy's back, while the other went under his thighs, gently lifting him up as he stood back up.
He was small and light... he couldn't possibly more than seven or eight years old.
"Good work, Hawke." Aveline said as she watched the boy wrapping his frail arms around Hawke's neck, burying his head in it. "What are you going to do?"
"It's very late..." he said, making sure that the boy was comfortable enough in his arms. "I'd bring him to the Chantry, but it's way too late. I will go tomorrow and talk to Sebastian. For now, he'll stay at my house. He could use some food and a bath."
"I don't think there's anything else you can do, anyway..." Aveline said, sighing softly. "Poor child... let's not linger here any longer. The farther you take him from here, the better he will be."
The rogue couldn't agree more as he followed her out of the warehouse. He stopped as he stepped outside, feeling the boy tightening his hold, shivering briefly. The air wasn't exactly warm tonight. The child was instinctively seeking body heat.
"Don't worry, I'm going to bring you home." Hawke gently whispered as he tried to hurry to go back to Hightown. He didn't even look if Aveline was behind him. All he cared was to bring the boy to his house.
He paused briefly when he realized he didn't even know his name, before keeping on walking. It would be for later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure the child would be safe...
To Be Continued...