Chapter 6
Tears and Rain
The cold rain stung at her skin and eyes. The staple dust of Kirkwall was turned to mud and the runoff made Hightown's back streets slick beneath her feet as she rushed after Fenris.
Hawke caught him as he entered a small private courtyard; secluded and quiet except for the pounding of the rain and her own heart echoing in her ears as she fell in step beside him. "Fenris?" she asked, but he stayed silent and kept walking, straightbacked and deathly quiet.
It was unnerving, this steady walk with no outward signs of emotion. Even though the elf was usually controlled and stoic, he'd never been so…vacant. Something was wrong. Her panic spiked.
"Fenris?" she reached for him, but he spun away from her touch and continued walking, his shoulders too tight. "What's wrong?" She reached for him again, but he pushed her hands away. He wouldn't look at her.
And that was when she realized.
He was leaving.
Not just walking to his mansion, not just avoiding her; he was leaving the city for good.
Her heart sank with the realization as her panic rose, choking her. Things weren't supposed to happen this way; she didn't want him to leave, didn't understand why he would. She stepped in front of him and shook her head. "No," she whispered, forcing the words past the lump forming in her throat. "You can't."
But he ignored her, stepping around her with his eyes hidden behind soaked bangs.
Frustrated and panicked she grabbed his wrist as he passed and held on as best she could as he tried to jerk his slippery gauntlet away from her grasp. "Why won't you look at me?"
He didn't want to look at her, didn't want to think of her ever again. Didn't want to remember her laugh or her smiles or the kiss on the riverbank. She was too close, it was too much. Fenris tried to tug his hand away but she held on too tight, wouldn't let him go; her small hands gripping his gauntleted wrist like pale little shackles.
Hawke was surprised when he rushed her, pushing her away forcefully. She stumbled back a few feet, slipping on the wet cobblestones. Scrambling she regained her balance, but her emotions couldn't find equilibrium. Over the past few years Fenris had become her protector, her friend; she didn't understand his sudden violence.
A stunned stillness fell over them.
They were both soaked; the rain fell in sheets from the roiling grey clouds and water was running over the cobblestones of the small courtyard in rivulets, completely submerging them in places. This storm had been building for a long time; it was releasing its fury now.
Hawke wrapped her arms about herself as she watched him intensely, shrinking away from the chill of the storm and her own cold dread. "What…" she started breathlessly. But anger steadied her and her whispered surprise became rage. "What the hell's wrong with you!"
And finally he looked at her, his feral glare so dark it forced her back a step. "You," he hissed.
.oO:OO:Oo.
As quickly as they'd come, they were gone again, leaving Halbert to stand in his vacant little shop in the midst of his broken trinkets.
But the mage didn't care for his broken merchandise at all.
What he'd told them was the truth. The powder was an irrevocable curse of slavery. An ancient magic; a lost magic. Only the most powerful of mages could create it, and Halbert was indeed powerful. There was no one in all of Thedas more specialized than he. The elf had indeed been damned when he'd been cursed with Halbert's spell.
If only Halbert had completed it.
Maybe he should have mentioned that.
He'd known that the powder would have slightly different effects when it was accidentally administered in an incomplete state. But he never could have hoped it would result in this. The elf should have been enslaved to Hadriana, but instead it seemed the horrible curse had just strengthened what was already there.
"Dreams, huh?" he asked the silent shop with a chuckle. And with a wave of a hand all of his broken toys were new again and stacked in their places for the nobles to buy.
.oO:OO:Oo.
Not in all the time she'd known him had she seen him so angry. Not even in his darkest hours had he been so feral; not even in those first few days had he seemed so out of reach.
It frightened her.
"You are everything that is wrong!" he yelled. Shaking, he pointed accusingly at her, his eyes alive with hate. "All of your selfless deeds, all of those kind words; everything I thought you were; a lie!" He couldn't believe he'd trusted this woman; couldn't believe he'd fallen for her forked tongue just because of a few imagined kisses. "I should have known where your loyalties lied. I should have known never to trust the daughter of a mage." The word dripped like poison from his lips, foul and terrible.
"I don't understand…" she said quietly.
He scoffed at her. "How long have you been working for him? Since you chose Anders?"
"What?" she breathed, stunned. "Fenris, I never-"
"Or before that? Was you father in league with him? Bethany? I have to admit, it was a good plan. So impossible I didn't even see it coming. And I thought I knew all the tricks." He eyed her for a moment, a bitter smile twisting his handsome features sadistically, but his eyes were hollow. "You didn't even need the damned powder," he whispered ruefully, and suddenly his eyes stung with more than just the cold bite of spring rain.
He didn't know how to stand against this hurt; had never felt a pain so profound. His shoulders fell as he stepped back, trying to further the distance between them. Floundering he pushed words past his tightening throat. "You-You made me think…" His face twisted with inner turmoil. He'd hoped… "I thought I could trust you." He'd wanted… "I thought you were different, that you would never…That you…" He choked. He'd hoped he'd found a place, thought that maybe he and Hawke…"But all of it was a lie!" Water flew in little drops from his bangs as he shook his head violently, trying to deny the feelings of regret and devastating betrayal that threatened to drown him.
Hawke was shaking her head. "Fenris, what are you talking abou-?"
She was cut off by the elf's livid shout. "No!" he cried, enraged with the continued act. "Do not feign ignorance. You and Hadriana ordered this powder. Ordered this curse on me! How long have you been working for Danarius?"
The impact of that accusation knocked her back a step and knocked her breath away. "What?" she gasped, baffled by his blame. "Fenris, I didn't order that powder."
"Stop," he hissed quietly. The mage had told them that Hadriana had ordered the powder, but it was Hawke he was cursed to desire. She had to be working for Danarius; the evidence was too damning to believe otherwise.
"I don't even know who Hadriana is."
"Stop it," he said, his emotions were twisting him around. He wanted to believe her, wanted to forget this pain.
"Fenris," she said quietly as her warm brown eyes pled with him. "If Danarius comes for you we can defeat him." The elf shook his head. "You're free, and I plan to help you stay that way. I could neve-"
"Stop lying!" he roared. He shook with rage as his cry echoed through the rainy courtyard. He was still for a moment before he spun sharply and started walking away again; wanting to be away from her, wanting to forget the image of wet silk plastered to her shapely body as sad eyes stared out from under soaked bangs clinging to pale cheeks. Wanting to forget her treachery.
Hawke couldn't believe what was happening. Had she been a fool to think they'd grown close, was their bond truly so fragile that he could think she'd ever betray him? That he would leave her so readily?
Her anger rose at the insult, but even more potent was the rise of desperation and panic. She didn't want him to leave.
He couldn't.
"Fenris?" she couldn't just let him leave thinking that she'd betrayed him. Her feet started moving on the wet stones. "Fenris!" couldn't let him leave thinking she didn't care for him. She picked up speed running over the slick courtyard.
And tackled him.
The elf was taken by surprise when the small woman collided into his back, sending him sprawling on the slick stones as she fell atop him. The wind was knocked out of him as he fell and he was disoriented by the sudden attack. Frantically he twisted and fought against her, his instincts screaming that no one should be this close.
But Hawke fought back just as forcefully, finding holds on his armor as he tried to shove her away and pushing him back just as hard. For a moment they were a twisting mass of flailing arms, scrambling and slipping back down on the half submerged stones. He snarled feraly, lost in his rage as he tried to disentangle himself from her. Twisting around he tried to shove her away, but the quick rogue moved with him. Suddenly she was above him, straddling him with her long legs as he tried to squirm away from her.
Fenris became even more frantic to get away. Clinging silk left no curve hidden as she pressed against him. It was images and sensations that his cursed dreams didn't need as fuel. He didn't want the feelings that washed over him as she gripped his shoulders and leaned forward.
And before he knew what was happening she was kissing him, hard. Her fingers gripped at his armor and as her lips moved against his in desperate passion he forgot why he needed to get away from her.
Forgot everything. At that moment there was only Hawke and the feelings her lips against his inspired.
Fenris had never been kissed, not like this. The plush but forceful press of her full lips was overwhelming and he lost himself in the frantic and demanding rhythm she set. Each move she made sent jolts of pleasure through him, shocking him with her intensity and setting his blood on fire. She took advantage of his protesting sigh, sneaking her tongue to possessively curl about his own, turning his soft breath into a gasp of pleasure.
This was better than anything he could have imagined, better than anything his dreams had shown him. Ten times better then the chaste kiss on the river bank. This was all so new to him and though it was tinged with desperation and panic, it hinted at an intimacy and tenderness that he hadn't thought possible. Spoke of desire that wasn't just physical. Fenris shuddered and groaned as delicate hands tugged forcefully at his armor as she pressed against him, pulling him closer.
Instinctively his hands rose to her hips, her cold wet clothing in drastic contrast to the heat spreading through him. She had complete control, and Fenris didn't know what do with himself, didn't understand how to react to this onslaught of emotion and physical desire. Tentatively, he started to kiss her back, answering the press of her lips with his own, and was rewarded with a soft sigh. It shot through him with a primal intensity awakening a wild desire that sent him reeling.
Gaining confidence he rose to meet her forceful demands, echoing the motions of her tongue, starting a battle for dominance. Gently he slid his hands from her hips to wrap his arms around her back, drawing her closer still, until there was no space between them; until the only thing separating them was her silk and his armor. He didn't like that. Fenris wanted more; wanted to feel the heat of her against him.
For the first time in his life, he wanted to feel the touch of skin on skin.
And suddenly her lips weren't on his anymore. Gently she kissed the corner of his mouth, kissed his high cheekbones, his forehead, his nose, his chin. Breathlessly he clung to her, trying to understand the change in pace; trying to regain some semblance of balance after such a shock to his equilibrium. Confused and indescribably disappointed he searched out her eyes.
His desire fled him when he saw her tears. Slowly he pulled away from her, worried that he'd unknowingly done something wrong. Had he hurt her somehow as he'd lost himself to that unknown passion? He gripped her arms cloaked in soaked silk gently as she continued to kiss him, trying to still her.
Her cheeks were wet with rain, and he wouldn't have known it was tears clinging to her lashes if more hadn't been standing precariously in her too bright eyes. "Hawke?" he whispered, his voice husky.
A pained whine escaped her terrifying him, and he tried to pull away to see what was wrong. But she gripped his shoulders and kept him close. "Please, Fenris," he couldn't stop the shiver that echoed down his spine at the sensation of her breath fluttering over his lips. "Please don't leave."
And all at once everything came crashing down around him. Her betrayal, their fight, the Curse. Suddenly the moment of new sensations and ecstasy felt twisted, warped. Had he been reacting to the passion, or had that just been another effect of the powder? He couldn't breathe with the force of his disappointment.
"I promise you," she continued, her voice trembling. "I didn't order that curse. And I would never help Danarius. My loyalty belongs to you, Fenris. I swear it." When he didn't answer she whined again, and he felt a rough sob wrack her frame. "Please, please believe me."
He wanted to, more than anything. But he couldn't know if he actually did, or if his trust was just because of the curse.
As he remained silent and more tears mixed with rain down her flushed cheeks, Hawke moved her lips to his ear and whispered soft words that stole his breath as surely as her kiss.
"I love you."
AN:
Will Fenris regain his trust in Hawke? Or will his doubts destroy him?
Tune in next time to read: Offers
Thank you for reading this. I hope you enjoyed it.
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Reviewers:
no. the confessional scene was not meant to bash catholicism.
JustAReader: no...i have a clear idea of what i'm writing everything is already pre-planned.
WingedHourglass: yeah, it'll be fully explained soon. a little mystery adds tension though.
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