Hawke had tried to go after Fenris, but the guardsmen had held her back. She suspected they were more afraid of Fenris than they were of her. She cursed them and nearly drew her daggers on them, but by then the captain had begun lowering the boat. She calmed, realizing she could no longer jeopardize a boat full of innocent people, not even for Fenris.
Once they made it to shore, Hawke could do nothing but wait for the other boat to join them. When it did arrive, without Fenris, she swore her heart stopped. The crewmen were apologetic, but they had seen him climb down into the hold and decided they could wait no longer. They wondered if he'd gone after some treasure in the hold. They thought perhaps he'd gone mad. They used the word suicidal. Hawke's blood boiled at that, but how could they know? After all Fenris had been through, it was not possible that his will to live would be broken by a shipwreck.
Hawke was in the middle of pleading with the captain to let her alone take the boat back out to the ship when one of the guardsmen started shouting. He ran to Hawke, pointing to the waves. Hawke turned, seeing a familiar blue glow cut through the water. Andraste's Mercy, could it be?
Fenris had hauled himself onto the rocky shore by the time Hawke reached him. He stood bent over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. Hawke had meant to hit him, she really had. Yet, when he straightened and looked at her, all she could do was sigh.
Now she sat beside the fire, sheltered from the storm by a small cave in the rocky hillside. Fenris, like everyone else, was down to his smallclothes, hanging his wet garments on a convenient rock to dry. Unlike everyone else, Fenris was covered in lyrium brands. Hawke noted most of the crew gawking, and hoped Fenris didn't realize, for their sakes. Hawke watched him too, but not because of the lyrium. For the first time in long time, Hawke remembered how attracted she had always been to the elf.
He turned towards her and she put that thought aside. His good looks were not going to save him from her questions. She let him sit down beside her before she began her interrogation.
"What were you thinking?" she rumbled. When Fenris didn't immediately reply, Hawke continued. "First you threw me into the boat, and then I hear that you went into the hold? If I wasn't so glad you survived, I would kill you!"
Fenris smirked. "Forgive me for saving your life."
"What does my life have to do with the hold?" she asked.
"Ah…" Fenris's voice grew softer. "I know it was foolish, but once I realized, I couldn't leave them trapped like they were."
The horses… Hawke understood. "I suppose not." They both fell silent, watching the flames.
"It was the Fog Warriors who taught me to swim," Fenris spoke up after a few minutes. "Another debt I owe them."
Hawke looked at him, hale and whole and right beside her. She owed the Fog Warriors a debt as well.
...
Morning brought sunshine and a beach littered with odds and ends from the ship. The crew busied themselves with gathering what cargo they could find, aided by the four guardsmen from Kirkwall. The ship itself loomed in the distance, crashed against the rocks and half-sunk. Fenris and Hawke, meanwhile, met with the captain. He had pulled several maps out of a well-oiled satchel he rescued from the ship.
"We ran aground on the north shore of Ferelden. We're actually not far from West Hill," he explained.
Fenris watched Hawke study the maps for a few moments before turning his gaze down the shore. He was surprised to see a horse walking among the debris, nosing a piece here and there. Leaving Hawke to the maps, Fenris walked closer. The horse snorted at him but did not flee. It wore a leather halter, tied to a short section of rope that had been cleanly cut. A cut like that required a sharp and heavy weapon… like a sword.
So, at least one of the horses he freed had survived.
The horse trod closer, only to stop, sniffing a barrel with great interest. Fenris inspected the barrel and smiled as he read the label. Apples. He pried the barrel open, pulling one apple out for the horse, and taking another for himself.
"I see you've made a friend," Hawke teased, joining them and taking the apple Fenris offered her. "I'm surprised he's so calm with you. Do you think he recognizes his savoir? Or is he only here for the apples?"
Fenris shrugged. "I assume it's the apples, but it can't hurt that I'm an elf." In truth, Fenris had no idea if the mutual ease he felt with certain animals had anything to do with him being an elf, or if it was just part of his personality.
"Ah," Hawke replied, "I didn't think about the elf part."
"What?" Fenris asked with a smirk, "The ears didn't give it away?"
Hawke smiled. "No, no, the ears are obvious. I guess elf is just fairly low on the list of things I associate you with."
That piqued Fenris's interest. "Oh? What else is on this list?"
"You'd really have me tell you?" Hawke laughed, petting the horse gently.
"I would. I deserve to know." Fenris crossed his arms in mock offense, but he flashed a mischievous smile.
"You are, first and foremost, a friend." Hawke began. "A dear and trusted friend. Then, of course, a warrior. Next, you are one of the most stubborn people I've ever met."
"Almost as stubborn as you are…" Fenris observed.
Hawke grinned. "Almost. You're also unfailingly honest. Really, if you speak, it's never a lie. You don't even lie to spare feelings."
"A blessing, and a curse," Fenris quipped.
Hawke rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. "Elf perhaps comes fifth, but only because it is obvious, after all. Next, you're sometimes a drunk."
That made Fenris laugh. It was true, he liked his wine. He liked the taste, he liked the smell. He did enjoy it, but it was also sometimes a vice and a crutch. He had been working on that.
"You're also handsome, when you're not scowling," Hawke added, her voice softer.
Fenris was a bit surprised. He wasn't surprised that Hawke found him handsome. She had expressed that in the past, and his appearance hadn't changed. He wasn't surprised that she would tease him about his attitude either. No, that was a perennial favorite. He was surprised by her tone…
"Viscount!" a guardsman called, rushing to join them. "We've found several horses."
Fenris sighed. He would have to complain to Aveline regarding how bad her subordinates were at reading the room.
...
In the end, they encountered five horses and plenty of saddles washed ashore.
"The horses are yours, Viscount," the captain offered. "Your swordsman friend is the only reason they aren't at the bottom of the Waking Sea, and I feel terrible that your journey has been delayed. All I ask is that you send word of our location to my merchant company once you arrive in West Hill. We'll stay here and salvage what cargo we can while we wait for one of their ships."
"Of course," Hawke agreed. "Thank you."
As the captain returned his attention to his crew, Hawke turned to Fenris and the four guardsmen. "I want to get moving, but unless we wait to find a sixth horse, one of the Guard will have to stay behind."
"Whatever you think is best, Viscount," a guardsman agreed.
Hawke looked to Fenris, but found him eyeing the horses instead. "I think we can leave now," he said when he finally turned back to her. "Those horses are large and stout, bred to carry knights I'm sure. Each guardsman in his armor should ride alone, certainly, but those horses would have no trouble carrying the weight of an armorless elf and a woman in leathers."
Hawke nodded. "You're right. Probably not the best way to ride all the way to Denerim, but it will get us to West Hill. Let's prepare to leave immediately."
While the guardsmen saddled their horses, Fenris simply offered his an apple. "A saddle isn't designed for two people," he explained when Hawke shot him a questioning glance. Instead he leapt onto the horse, securing his sword so that it fell flat against the horse's neck and his leg.
"You've done this before," Hawke observed.
"Not with two people," Fenris explained, "but I've never been able to keep my sword across my back while riding. The swords I use are too long." He reached down and offered her his hand.
Hawke climbed up behind him. "I assume I'll need to hold on?"
"I assume," Fenris confirmed. "Unless you'd rather switch?"
"No, the horse clearly prefers you." Hawke turned towards the guardsmen. "Let's move out!"
Tentatively, Hawke wrapped her arms around Fenris. It was harder to keep rhythm with the horse riding together this way, but the warmth of Fenris against her more than made up for it. Hawke took a deep breath, and was surprised. After the shipwreck, she was sure everything smelled of seawater and camp fire. What she didn't expect was the scent of leather and oil on his shirt. From his armor, she realized. There was something more, a sweetness… lyrium. It was pleasant, and if not for the jarring movement of the horse beneath her, she might have fallen asleep.
...
Fenris checked the straps on his armor once more and mounted his horse wearily. They had reached West Hill without incident, buying supplies, another horse, and some basic armor for him. He couldn't deny that he missed the feeling of Hawke close against him, but now that he was wearing armor again, it wouldn't have been the same.
Even on separate horses, they had kept close, bickering and reminiscing about the good times. They had avoided talking about the bad times. That was just as well. Fenris felt they had more than cleared the air. He had been reminded again and again how much he enjoyed her company. Still, he had not found the right time to tell her how he felt. He had decided to speak with her when they finally arrived in Denerim, since no other opportunity seemed likely.
They had been on the Imperial Highway for nearly a week, but had been forced on a detour the day before. The same storm that wrecked the ship also washed out a section of the road in the easternmost reaches of the Coastlands. It had been frustrating to have Denerim in their sights, only to be forced onto a small forest trail. The forest had been muddy too, and infested with flies. Fenris scratched idly at a bite on his neck… one of many parting gifts from the wretched creatures.
With such nonsense, it was no wonder he didn't feel his best, Fenris told himself. He had forced himself to eat his breakfast, despite his lack of appetite. In theory that was supposed to keep his strength up, but as they rode, he found himself fatigued none the less. He was cold, too, even with the sun shining on him. That wasn't right… was it?
His vision swam, and though Fenris could hear Hawke's voice, he couldn't make out the words. Fenris felt himself slipping from his horse, but he just couldn't…
