Chapter 4

Crash Landing

"Drinks for Hawke and the elf! Put them on my tab!" Called Varric as Norah left the suite.

It'd been evening by the time Hawke, Fenris and Merril had made it back to Kirkwall. Tired, achy, and cold they'd gathered at the Hanged Man for a blazing fire and warm friendship. They'd sat with Varric and Isabela and recounted the tumultuous venture. True to his nature Varric had turned Hawke's near death experience into an epic tale of daring rescue and the story telling only got more vivid as Anders and Sebastian arrived.

Between Hawke and Varric, they both made it sound far more grand than falling in a river actually was, and though he knew it was the dwarf's way, Fenris had never been the main hero in his stories. The decoration was met with his embarrassed silence.

The elf was used to appreciation and praise; under Danarius he'd experienced much of it, though it had been twisted and vile. A guest's admiring hand drifting too far, tracing his burning brands; the Magisters' congratulatory remarks on a successful, surviving experiment. None of it had been kind, and none of it had been directed towards him. Anything he did and everything he was was reflected directly onto his master. It was enough to make a man feel like he was nothing.

But to receive true thanks and praise from people he so fiercely respected – especially from Hawke – was a heady feeling and he found himself blushing at her words more than once.

Drinks arrived, skipping Sebastian's seat. The man had watched and listened intently to their story, and eyed both Fenris and Hawke with worry. As a game of wicked grace started and they all quietly eyed their cards he spoke to them somberly, at odds with the general warmth and comfort of the room. "Sometimes," he said, "when faced with death, a person realizes there were things that had been lacking in their lives. Things they'd wished they'd done..."

"Or people you wished you'd done," Isabela lilted as she gazed lustily at Hawke over her cards.

Sebastian shot her an irritated look as he continued. "Or things they'd wished they'd had. You've had a very full life for a woman of your age, and it's obvious that you are happy, but there are undoubtedly things you still wish to do. Death can make regrets resurface, or bring to light things you regret not doing."

Hawke's eyes were solemnly locked on her cards as she hummed non-committedly, and Fenris wondered at the mystery in her suddenly distant gaze. She was strong willed and bold; if there was something she wanted, wouldn't she have already taken it?

The possibility that she was unhappy made him strangely uneasy.

"What about you elf?" chuckled Varric as he leaned in with a knowing grin that was full of mischief. "Anything you regret not doing?"

"Or anyone?" added Isabela as she turned her heated eyes to the elf. Their teasing made him uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat as he struggled to keep his eyes from drifting back to Hawke under their sudden scrutiny.

Ignoring the others, Sebastian nodded to him warmly. "My offer extends to you as well. Even though you were courageous, you were faced with the same risks as Hawke. Look for me at the Chantry. Or if you want anonymity feel free to use the confessionals. Anything said or done in them will be confidential."

The pirate's hooded eyes swung to him, releasing Fenris. "Confidential?" the word rolled off her tongue with a husky breath. She hummed, as she leaned towards the Brother. "I have a few sins to confess."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her boldness. "Really?" he asked dryly.

"O, yes." She said, ignoring her cards for a moment. "I've been a very, very naughty girl."

"You might want to fold, Rivaini. Won't win this round." Varric said nonchalantly as he drew back from sneaking a peek at her cards while the she was distracted. The pirate rounded on the dwarf, accusations instead of flirtations singing off her tongue harshly, but her ire helped to lighten the mood and nothing else too serious was said.

Fenris ignored the ensuing banter as he considered Sebastian's offer. It was true that as a slave Fenris had been forced to do many things that haunted his steps as a free man. Things he regretted; things that were the stuff of his nightmares.

But if his dreams showed him his regrets then they also showed him his desires. He risked a shy glance at Hawke who was laughing again, but looked away quickly as their eyes locked, the intensity behind that look confusing.

The woman was a mystery to him, and his feelings towards her even more so. However wrong or impossible it seemed, the only thing he'd thought about in that cold river had been her – she was the only thing he ever thought about recently. His chaotic emotions confused him. He didn't understand the panic he'd felt as she'd slipped over that ledge, didn't understand the horrible wrenching feeling that tugged at his gut when someone else was around her or the terrible lethargy that overcame him when she was away, and he didn't understand his dreams. Nothing seemed to make sense to him lately.

The only thing that had set him at ease these past few days had been her kiss – however chaste. He felt heat creep up his cheeks at the pleasant memory. In that moment, Fenris had felt more at peace than he had his entire life.

And it was real.

The dreams which had been plaguing him felt wrong in comparison; dirty. Fake memories that followed his steps and corrupted his emotions, leaving him hollow and wanting when he woke; frustrated and worried the rest of the day.

And tired. He was very tired.

What all of it meant, he didn't know. He knew he cared for Hawke – deeply – but the rest was a mystery.

Something had changed, and Fenris couldn't figure out what.

As Hawke folded her last hand she stretched with a soft groan. The games had dwindled down as Merril fell asleep in a plush chair in the corner, Anders had disappeared, and now she was tired. The company and the fire had warmed her, banishing the chill left over from the horrific incident the day before, and the drink left her comfortable and a bit lightheaded.

Though she blamed a bit of the latter on the elf at her side.

Fenris's heated gaze had hardly strayed from her all night, and the intensity in his eyes left her feeling giddy. He was never not mysterious and handsome, but when he relaxed and let his guard down he was breathtaking. His hooded regard made it hard for her to think straight and she'd lost quite a few bets thanks to him.

"Well," she said as she put her hands on the table and pushed her chair back. "I'm done. It's time I went home. Bodhan and mother will be worried if I stay out too late." She joked winking at Varric and Isabela as she stood. Fenris rose with her and waited as she gathered her things.


.oO:OO:Oo.


The walk home was quiet and chilly, and Hawke's steps swayed slightly. She'd never noticed how biting early spring nights were in Kirkwall.

But she did notice Fenris. The darkness failed to dull his stark white hair and markings, and he looked much softer in quiet moonlight than he did during the day. He walked proudly in the dark, but his steps echoed of readiness as he watched the shadows around them; the elf was feral and wild even when he was relaxed. Hawke decided she liked that.

Sebastian's words floated back to her. As she watched Fenris walk beside her she decided that the man had been right.

There were things she wanted to do.

As they approached the estate, she realized she didn't want him to leave tonight. Even though he was unbearably silent most of the time, his presence was strong and comforting. And he was so incredibly…Fenris. Who else did she know that would jump into a raging river after her? No one. There was no one else in Thedas who could equal his fierce yet shy charm. What girl wouldn't want him?

Hawke stopped before they reached the estate, and he halted with her. Bohdan had left the lanterns in the entryway burning for her as he did every night and the warm light fell on the elf's features, lighting the sharp planes of his face mysteriously as he turned to her with questions in his green eyes. Her breath caught.

Curious and a bit drunk she took a step closer and let her fingers gently brush his armored ones. He didn't move away like usual, and she smiled approvingly as she intertwined their fingers. His eyes darkened as she stepped closer still, and she shivered under their intensity. Hawke searched that deep gaze for a moment, but couldn't find what she was looking for – didn't know what she was trying to find in the first place.

"Are you going to leave?" she asked.

Jerkily he drew away from her, obviously confused by her question as his eyes became guarded again. "I don't understand…" he said hesitantly as he shook his head.

When she'd come so close he'd thought- But no. Hopes Fenris hadn't known he'd had fell along with his racing heart. Her tone rang with finality; he didn't understand what she was asking. Had he misread her signals? Was this her rejection?

Her eyes were solemn as she peered up at him through thick lashes. "You've been looking at me again."

What?...Fenris was confused.

"It's just…" he was surprised to see her cheeks darken as she tried to explain. "Just that the last time you looked at me like this you disappeared for a couple months."

He nodded, understanding rising along with his embarrassment; he hadn't known he'd been so obvious with his regard. There was silence for a few moments as he thought about how to reply. He'd fled the unknown feelings before, and that had only complicated things and hurt them both. He wouldn't do the same again willingly. But he didn't know if Hawke was comfortable with whatever was growing between them. He didn't know if he was.

"Do you want me to disappear?" he asked softly after a moment. Fear rose in him that her answer would be yes; he didn't know what he would do if it was. But he wouldn't force his presence on her if he was unwanted.

The soft smile that rose on her full lips calmed his worry. "No." her voice was quiet, breathy, and her tone was too similar to her words in his dreams. He shivered. "No, Fenris," she drew close again, and he lost his breath to her nearness. "I…" she started slowly as she tugged at their intertwined fingers, bringing him closer still as she raised her face. Fenris felt his heart pound in his throat. "I want you to-"

"Hawke?" the voice broke the moment as she turned away from him. Fenris followed her gaze to the Estate entryway, and whatever warmth he'd had now became furious anger.

It was Anders.

Apparently his rage was obvious, because Hawke shook her head. "It's fine. It's just Anders," she reassured. The hard set of his jaw told her exactly what Fenris thought of the mage's presence. "Just go home," she laughed as she turned away, releasing their entwined fingers. "I'll see you in the morning, alright?"

She watched for a long moment until he finally gave a jerky nod and stepped away into the night. A strange emptiness filled her as she watched him go. For some reason, it felt wrong.

"Hawke?" She turned to Anders with a smile and missed Fenris darting behind a wall just out of the lamplight. The man looked at her searchingly for a moment. "We…We need to talk."

Her smile fell a little at his somber tone. Her lightheadedness hadn't dissipated, and she was flustered from another near kiss with Fenris. She shook her head a little, trying to clear the fog of intoxicated passion.

Anders moving closer didn't help.

"Listen, Hawke, I…I know I said it wasn't smart for us to be together. That I'm dangerous, and that it would only end in pain." He was talking quickly now, and Hawke tried to piece together what he was saying as she tipsily noticed the lamplight wasn't as mysterious on his face as it was on Fenris's. "But... Maker, Hawke, you almost died yesterday." He choked out.

I think I like mysterious… she thought as she cocked her head.

But Anders was handsome, too. Very much so. He was much softer than Fenris with his red-blond hair and paler skin. His cheeks were rounder, too, not hollowed from so many years of running, and he had a light dusting of facial hair. Hawke decided she liked it, very much. And she liked his blue eyes.

There was no denying the man was gorgeous.

But there was something missing. Something she couldn't quite place at the moment.

"You're finally looking at me." his soft chuckle startled her from her inspection. She hadn't realized he'd stopped talking, or that she'd been staring. Definitely one-too-many. She thought with a low sigh.

Something caught his attention and he looked behind her for a moment as annoyance twisted his brow. But as she tried to turn to see what it was, he caught her hands in his larger one and pulled them against his chest, drawing her closer.

"I'm glad." He said as he snuck his other hand down to rest on her hip. For some reason she didn't know, she let him.

"Hawke," he breathed, and she could feel his broad chest beneath her hands and his warm breath on her lips as his soft words gently blew away her thoughts. "I can't." He let go of her hands, and she couldn't move them away, didn't know how in that moment. "I can't stay away from you any longer." His calloused hand ran up her arm, and she shivered as it sank into her silky hair.

"I love you," he breathed and then lowered his lips to hers.

It was everything a kiss should be. It was hot, and fierce and passionate. His lips left her breathless and sent her reeling with their dominance.

But somewhere in the back of her mind a little alarm was going off. For some reason she expected kisses to be frozen and chaste; imagined them to hint of expensive wines from a dark mansion. Thought there should be more of a feraly loyal edge to a kiss.

When his tongue snuck its way past her lips, though, her doubts crumbled.

Along with Fenris's world.

He watched from behind a cold stone wall as the kiss deepened; as the abomination took what Fenris had been dreaming of.

And as Hawke didn't push him away.

But she had too, he thought wildly. The monster had to be forcing her. It was some spell, or magic, or trick. Hawke would never let him, would never rest her hands on his chest so gently, and would never kiss him back. She couldn't.

But she did.

And she didn't push him away.

Suddenly he felt very very sick.

Hawke's gasp echoed out to him, and Fenris couldn't watch any longer. Numbly he tore his eyes from the scene and fell back against the cold stone wall. He couldn't feel the chill, couldn't feel anything beyond the hollow ache blooming in his chest.

Breath wouldn't come to him and he slid weakly down the wall, trembling, trying to curl in on himself as hopes he hadn't even been aware of collapsed around him.

This was all so wrong. Hawke wasn't supposed to be kissing the abomination!

Who's she supposed to kiss, then? You? His own thoughts mocked him cruelly, and that horrible subconscious doubt that he'd fought for so long began to creep back in. You're an ex-slave and an Elvin fugitive. What woman would choose that over a mage?

He shook his head trying to clear the painful truths as the cold air of the night stung his eyes viscously. Rubbing at them didn't help. They were still gritty several days after the powder, and now branded with the horrible image of that monster wrapped around Hawke. He gasped at this new pain and tried vainly to erase that image with deep shuddering breaths that couldn't calm him; couldn't fill the cold ache spreading through him.

He cursed breathlessly.

"Fenris."

He flinched but struggled to look up through his bangs; forced himself to meet the eyes of the person who had just devastated him.

Anders.

Looking down on him with those haughty eyes Fenris hated so much; always looking down. Just like every mage. But something else was in his gaze this time; something more degrading and demeaning than any amount of hate.

There was pity in the man's blue eyes.

"Fenris-" the mage started again. Fenris hissed at him, not trusting himself to be able to force words past the choking lump in his throat. Anders shook his head and sighed. "I wanted to thank you."

He froze. Thank him? For what? The man was twisted. Evil. A growl ripped through his pained chest, feral and inhuman, as he felt the pulse of the lyrium in his skin. He wanted this man dead, more than any other, more than he'd ever wanted Danarius!

But his hand stilled at the memory of Hawke's eyes fluttering shut, of her submitting to the abomination's embrace. Her kiss told him what her words had not. She loved this man, and he couldn't bring himself to cause her pain.

He hunched his shoulders more, trying to curl away from the sympathy in Ander's eyes.

"I wanted to thank you for saving her." The man continued. "I love her, and I don't know what I would do if she died."

It was obvious Fenris was not going to reply. Anders ran his hand through his hair, watching the proud warrior fall apart before him. He'd never cared for Fenris; there had always been a strong hatred between the two, and an even stronger jealousy concerning Hawke. But the elf before him was not the same one he shared a rivalry with, not the same fierce and dangerous creature. This man was broken.

"I'm sorry," Anders said quietly, knowing that there was nothing to be done for the elf; knowing that if he hadn't disturbed the two when he had, it very well could have been him huddled in the shadows.

"Leave me," Fenris hissed, forcing the words past his clenched teeth.

With a sigh Anders turned away and stepped off into the night, leaving Fenris to his grief.

And the elf stayed there, crumpled against the wall and lost in his sorrow, wondering how he could continue living when it felt like his heart had just been ripped out.


.oO:OO:Oo.


Around a few corners, down the street, and through several locked doors Halbert sat in front of a blazing fire in his overstuffed chair.

But the heat of the flames wasn't enough to fight the chill of the unearthly voice that drifted from the shadows behind him. "You have something for me, mage?" it was no more than a soft hiss; a soft caress of evil breath, but Halbert had been expecting it.

He shook his head slightly, unwilling to relay the message. But the dark messenger wouldn't leave without it, so he forced the words past his dry lips. "It's done." He paused for a moment, hesitant to say the damning words. "Tell your mistress it is done. Her order has already been administered."

A quiet hiss echoed from the shadows. "She will be pleased with your initiative," said the spirit, and a chill washed over Halbert with that statement. He was well aware of just how vile the woman's approval was.

Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the chill was lifted and the shadows disappeared into cracks and holes, returning to their mistress. Warmth filled the room again, but it was no relief to Halbert.

The mage sat quietly, numb to the comfort around him as he stared sadly at the dented little silver jar in his lap. He'd never known guilt more crushing than what he felt at that moment.

Dark forces were coming to this city.

The elf was damned.


An:

...oh no.

Tune in next time to finally learn the truth of the magic powder in: Confessions


If you enjoyed this chapter, please review!


Reviewers:

MaryGolden: thank you so much for your compliments! it means a lot that you think I've improved.

LightsAurora: thank you, too! you have been a very kind support since the beginning! thanks so much. and i'm glad you liked the fluff^^

Stargazer177: no he will not die...think even worse!

WingedHourglass: Thank you! and yeah, it's hard to write Anders in a nice light when most of it is from Fenris's pov. Even if I don't care for him, I do think Anders is a very good character, and I want to show more of that in future chapters. helps with the angst.

I've gotten a lot of Anonymous reviewers - or people just didn't sign in. so I'll adress a few points:

:no, this is not a Fenris/Hawke turned baby fic. obviously.

: some of you left errors for me to fix, and I have. Thank you!

:I will update as soon as possible.

and thank you to everyone who reviewed and the many people who are watching this story. your support inspires me.