We did it. We convinced the Viscount to grant us the Amell Estate, and mother could not have been happier. For the past three years, we have been living in Hightown. I am still getting used to being considered a noble. After our expedition, two of Bartrand's men, a dwarf named Bohdan and his son Sandal, came to live at the estate. Since then, they have become our "servants", but I hate that word. I like to just call them friends that help around the house, and I commission them with coin. In the Deep Roads, I helped rescue Sandal when he became lost. He is on the slow side, only able to say a few words, but is he ever strong. There is some kind of power inside of him, that even Bohdan himself isn't sure what it quite is, but he can defend himself better than I ever could. Still, I helped return the boy to his father and ever since, Bohdan has insisted with helping my mother and I. I have come to know the both of them as family.
As for Fenris and I, nothing ever became of it. All that flirting, and nothing. He still looks at me as if he longs for my touch, but he has never acted upon anything. The same as Anders. I can't even count how many times I have caught him staring at me, when he thinks I am not paying attention. But then, anytime I have tried to reach out to either of them, they refuse to be anything more than friends. I have started to think that there must be something wrong with me that displeases them. Am I too muscular now, from fighting so much? Have I acquired too many scars from battles almost lost? Or is it that I am a noble now, and they wish to remain unseen, Anders because he is a mage healer, and Fenris, hiding from Danarius? I just don't know.
I did consider turning my efforts elsewhere. There is a man we met a few years ago, a Prince actually...named Sebastian. His whole family was slaughtered, and he wanted to find the culprits and bring them to justice. He hired me and we avenged him family's deaths. But alas, he has sworn himself to the Chantry now, and is chaste. Such a shame, those piercing blue eyes, and that Starkhaven accent and the way the words roll off of his tongue, I know that he could have been a lot of fun. I started to ache from the lack of a man's touch for so long, I almost debated on joining Isabela for a night at The Blooming Rose, the local whore house. Almost. I wasn't so desperate yet, I knew the place was probably crawling with diseases, and Isabela often went to Anders to get potions to rid her of whatever ailment she had caught that month. Isabela was not a desperate woman. She was as beautiful as they come, but she had no limits. Some thought it strange that a woman would look for thrills at a whore house, but it is something we grew to embrace about the pirate. She looked at these men and women as new conquests, and wanted to enjoy as many as she could get her hands on. I am no prude by any means, but I like to have a connection with a person before I bed them.
I had taken the night off from my duties to Kirkwall to spend time with my dear friend Fenris. Friends, that was all we were, with constant flirting. It was better than nothing, but I still had hoped we could one day become more. I had a surprise for him. The other day while at the Lotown market, I came across a merchant who had a book of Shartan. Shartan helped free the slaves, and I thought of him as soon as I saw it. I hoped he liked it.
Before I left, I went into my mother's room to pick out a perfume to wear. I have never been overly girlish, but my mother sure knew her perfume. She had dozens of bottles, and she had very expensive taste. Even when we were in hiding in Fereldan, and low on coin, my Father had always managed to lavish my mother with luxurious perfumes. I went over to the shelf, and immediately reached for my favorite. She had ones that were fragranced of jasmine, honeysuckle, red osmanthus, lavender, and lilac. But my choice was vanilla and sandalwood. I sprayed it over my décolleté, and took in the aroma. Absolutely heavenly. Not that he would even notice...but there was no harm in trying, was there?
I became increasingly anxious as I approached his house. Despite nothing ever coming of our flirting and teasing, I still adored him and longed for something more.
I opened the door to his mansion when he did not answer. "Fenris?" I called out. I heard him swearing in Arcanum, his native tongue. "Fasta vass! Hawke...do come in."
I immediately smelled charred mutton, and laughed. Was he trying to cook for himself again? "Having trouble, Fenris?" I laughed more and approached his kitchen, where, as I had guessed, was burnt meat, still aflame. He managed to get it out, and I was all giggles.
"I, I am sorry. I was hoping I would be able to prepare a meal for you, for once. It seems I am insufficient in the matter of cooking." I often came over with food that either I or mother had made. I knew he did not have a lot of life skills that most are taught young, as he lived a life in slavery. He was never permitted to cook, as his main task was that of a body guard to his former master Danarius. Such menial tasks where left to slaves that were not Danarius', but belonged to apprentices of his, such as a woman named Hadriana. So, I offered to help him as much as time had permitted me. I gave him a few lessons here and there, but it really seemed he was a lost cause. No matter how simplistic the recipe, it always ended up in flames.
"Well, that was sweet of you. You really didn't have to."
He gave me a smile, and handed me a glass of wine. "Looks like we will be having stale bread tonight. I am sorry, Hawke."
"It's fine. Actually, I have something for you myself." I reached out and handed the gift over to him, desperately hoping he would approve.
"It...it's a book." He said matter of factly, and I was instantly disappointed. I knew this was a foolish idea.
"It's a subject you're familiar with. The book is by Shartan, the elf who helped Andraste free the slaves. You know about him, right?"
"A little. It's just.." he paused, and I could tell he was hesitating, debating whether to tell me something or not. He continued "Slaves are not permitted to read. I've never learned." I could tell he was embarrassed, and I wanted to reach out and comfort him. So badly I wanted to caress his hands, kiss them, and tell him he needn't fear my judgement. I looked deeply into his hazel eyes and smiled.
"It's not too late to learn Fenris."
"Isn't it? Sometimes I wonder. I don't mean to seem ungrateful. I do appreciate the thought. I've always wanted to learn more of Shartan. Perhaps this is my chance."
"Well, let me help you then. I don't mind. Honestly."
"Culinary lessons, and now reading lessons Hawke? You don't find me a lost cause?"
"Not at all."
"Surely you'd rather spend your evenings doing things other than teaching an ex slave tasks most would learn in childhood. You have such a busy schedule, I don't understand why you would want to waste what little leisurely time you have to yourself with me."
"Nonsense Fenris. Any time spent with you is time I cherish." I said the words without thinking them through. He gazed at me, and would not cast away his glance. He was tracking my face for any traces of sarcasm, and when he saw me blushing, he chuckled to himself.
"You're a beautiful woman Hawke. Is there no one else who has your attention?"
"Do you see anyone else here?"
"I'm an escaped slave and an elf, living in a 'borrowed' mansion. None of those things bother you?"
"And I'm an apostate refugee, does that bother you?" I challenged him. Did I really want to know? He despised magic and mages alike. Yet he always seemed to cast aside those hate filled feelings for my sake. What if this was the real reason he didn't want me?
"You have me there. You raise an interesting point. I'll have to consider it."
I had spent another hour or so with him, before deciding to return home for the night. I got up to leave, but as I reached for the door, he spoke again.
"Hawke?"
"Yes Fenris?"
"You smell delightful."
Over the next few weeks, I would go to Fenris' mansion in the evenings, when he wasn't drinking at The Hanged Man with Varric, to help him learn to read. There was something so alluring about it. Here he was, a grown man, and so curious about literature. He had a child like interest, and it seemed to bring out the maternal side in me. There were times when we would sit side by side, and I would read to him from the book of Shartan. I admit, not the best book for a beginner, but it was the gift I bought for him, and he so desperately wanted to learn more on the subject. I would trace my fingers under the words as I read them aloud. He would sometimes be so close to me, I would feel his warm breath on my skin, and it would make me quiver with anxiety. Our faces would be so close, I wanted nothing more than to feel his breath on my lips, flesh on flesh, embracing each other's lips with the passion that had lingered between us for over three years.
There was a moment where his fingers touched mine, when he asked me about a certain word. We glanced at each other, and there was no doubt in my mind, that there was definitely something between us. I could feel my heart racing as he stared at me, and I had to turn away. I wish I could get over my modesty and just pounce on the man, but how would he react? I couldn't take the rejection, and he hadn't said anything about my flirting a few weeks prior. He said he would consider it, but nothing has happened. I was so tired of this waiting game. Finally he spoke.
"It is getting late Hawke, and I tire from all this reading. Could we continue another day?"
"Sure, if that's what you'd like." I felt like saying, I know a much better way of tiring you out elf, but again, my heart was filled with disappointment.
"Will you be joining everyone for drinks at The Hanged Man tomorrow?"
"Why, did you want me to come?"
"It wouldn't be the same without you." He smiled, and his eyes became soft.
"Very well, see you tomorrow night Fenris."
As I walked down the street back to my house, I became confused. He looked at me like he wanted me, his body language said he wanted me, so why wait? Tomorrow I would get my answer, even if I had to beat it out of the elf. No, violence wasn't the answer to this problem, Hawke. I smiled, as a thought came to me. Why hadn't I thought of it before? It was so simple. Isabela. I would get help from her. Who better to help me then the queen of love herself?