Chapter 18:

Author Notes: I never believe that Fenris and Hawke broke off anything after he left, honestly or in the time between the scene in act 2 and three…. Even when you play the game, before you reconcile and talk about your relationship, your party members say comments all the time about Fenris and Hawke like Aveline asked me about being careful with Fenris. Just food for thought.

She wasn't at her home again. Did she ever stay there these days? It seemed to him that she tried to stay away from her estate at all costs. Was it because it reminded her of her mother or was it because she was just bored? He wanted to believe it was the first that she was something more than a sadistic killer, but it seemed more likely that she was just traipsing about on a whim.

Bodhan had no idea where she went. The girl she had hired, Orana, just stared at him petrified. He thought he'd find her at the Hanged Man, but Varric said he hadn't seen her since last night. Varric had said it was her day off, so he might be able to find her at the Wounded Coast. It seemed suicide to go there by herself, to fight off raiders and spiders, and whatever still lived on that Coast.

Varric had shrugged at Fenris' look of disapproval. "It isn't risky to her. I think that's what she most enjoys. Tonight she'll probably be in Lowtown fighting Carta or Coterie, or whatever gets in her way."

"None of you thought to try and stop her?" Varric had laughed at that. It seemed he legitimately found what Fenris said to be a joke.

"Elf, have you tried to stop Hawke from doing something she wanted? That is what I call suicide, not her trips to the Coast. Any of us would go, Anders used to force himself on those expeditions but she ditched him in the middle of the Coast and he took the hint. I don't want to get lost on the coast because Hawke wants some alone time."

He didn't feel like giving her alone time. He wanted to confront her about her tricks and the way she was acting. He didn't know exactly what he was going to say to her, but he just wanted to yell at this impossible woman and get some sense into her, or at least find out what her ultimate plan was. She had something up her sleeve that he didn't like. Hawke wasn't the type to dress up and go to balls, so why was she doing it? So he went to the Wounded Coast.

She liked the smell of the salt water, and the feel of the breeze that the coast always had even on the clearest days. She loved the days it rained the best, where she would sit out on the bank and watch the sea rage and the waves collide against the rocks. This was her solitude, she thought best when she was staring out at the sea. She could understand why Isabella left if it meant being able to sail across the world once more. The only boat she had ever taken was the one where she was trapped under the deck with the other refugees. It was far from romantic, but she often dreamed of leaving Kirkwall behind and just wandering the world. Bodhan had said he was leaving not too long ago, and part of her wished she could leave with them but she had too many unfinished ends in this place and she wouldn't leave Bethany here in the Circle while she went about the world.

The raiders were making their planned attack as they always did. She had found their schedule and had made her time around attacking them. It was amusing, as they thought one of their own had leaked their plans, but it was much simpler than that: they spoke too loudly in the streets. Raiders were never that intelligent, she had to admit the slavers were much cleverer. The slavers had changed their routes from the Wounded Coast, they had switched to the Docks which made her less apt to attack them as while she had ears, Meredith had eyes. She was always being watched. The only time she wasn't watched was when she would disappear from Kirkwall to the Wounded Coast or Sundermount. Meredith only knew she wasn't in Kirkwall, not where she hid. It unnerved her for Meredith to know she wasn't in the city, but even when she was there Meredith got away with things that made her blood boil. She was turning all the mages into abominations herself, maybe she was just trying to kill all the mages so she could focus less on templar duties and more on her political aspirations. The only joy she got these days was the image in her mind of taking over Kirkwall. She had gathered enough support from the nobles, she just had to make a move. She didn't truly want to stand up to Meredith though, it might mean torture for Bethany or death. She was paralyzed by this woman, trapped. No one had such power over her before, or such control over her actions. She was a lapdog, whether she wanted to admit or not.

Reality is a bitch, and these raiders were about to find out. She casually pulled her hood up, white wolf fur with the tuffs of fur that made it look like ears. It made her feel like she was back with the Dalish, for a brief fleeting moment. Perched on a hill overlooking them she watched as they foolishly walked into his miasma traps. They started coughing and sputtering, trying to inhale fresh air, but this stuff… this was the recipe she got off of that crazy elf. The Arishok wasn't kidding when he said how potent this stuff was. She had found out first experience, but she had expected what she walked into. She drew the bow off of her back with a few arrows and took out the stragglers. They didn't know what hit them as the arrows hit various key points on the body: jugular, eyes… you name it she hit it. She felt slightly smug as she sat back down as she watched the last in their dying thralls. They were easier to kill than werewolves, and much more of a satisfying target. She sat back down and looked at the scene as the last survivors were in their dying thralls. The poison made them insane before it killed them, so she felt little remorse… they didn't know what was happening to them after all. She would go down and leave some signs of Carta on the bodies before she left to make the groups attack each other again. It at least distracted them from innocents.

She hated this outfit, she never knew why she wore it. Maybe it was the wolf fur that felt so nice against her skin, or maybe it was the fact it showed her ill-begotten success. The raiment of the Champion of Kirkwall. The outfit specifically designed for her. She had to say the wolf fur was a nice dig by Meredith, the way it was meant to remind her of her one companion that had disappeared. Meredith was clever. She even had on the back embroidered the crest of Kirkwall where Hawke had always worn her family crest. The outfit was all a sign of how she was Meredith's dog now. She did like the leather though, it fit perfectly, accenting everything that the Chantry would wish she would cover up. She refused to wear the boots, they were too metallic. She preffered her black high heeled boots, but the gloves were nice. The touch of silver really accented the white of her hood and collar. She had bad news for Meredith, she might like to dress her lapdog up, but this lapdog had a bite. Wolves could never become domesticated truly.

Movement stirred behind her but she didn't move. He knew she heard him but he guessed she didn't feel him a threat. Maybe she knew he would show up but he doubted that. He raised a brow at her attire. He guessed this was the Champion of Kirkwall before him, wearing the crest of Kirkwall in red while the rest of her attire was black, except for that white wolf fur that she wore as a hood. She looked so peaceful as she looked over at the massacre she produced. He wondered if he should warn people about her instead of mages, mages at least obviously had powers beyond what a mortal should possess, but Hawke… Hawke just looked like a regular woman.

"What is it you want, Fenris?" She didn't even turn to look at him. He felt like some intruder again into this world that Hawke didn't want him in. Her voice sounded harsh and withdrawn to him, far from what he was used to.

"A wolf pelt?" He seemed to have forgotten all his anger as he stared at her form sitting on the edge of the precipice.

"Fen.. It is Fen. Dalish crafted so it deserves the Dalish name. Merrill said that it looked like the pelt of the Dread Wolf." He could feel her pause deliberately before looking at him. "I know what your name means. I always did, little wolf." She seemed amused by his expression at that name, the hatred that oozed off of him. "I think it fits you. That seems to be the only thing Danarius got right about you, that you are a little wolf." She stood up to dust herself off, taking a meticulous time to get all the grains off of her. "You snarl and nip at everyone but you aren't an alpha." She walked closer to him at a slow pace, a deliberate step like every movement she made.

"I do not like that pet name, and where do you get off saying such things, Hawke?" He was snarling at her, doing the very thing she was saying it without noticing.

"You do not like a lot of things, Fenris… You do not like the way I play pretend with the nobles. You do not like the way I go out to the Wounded Coast by myself. What do you like, Fenris?" She was ignoring his question, angering him and she was soaking it up. "Would you like to hurt me? Put me in my place?" She eyed him up with those cruel blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with some delight in them at tormenting him. "I don't think you could."

She was laughing, she was laughing at him again but it wasn't that hollow laugh, it was something beyond amusement. He had her pinned on the ground and she was laughing at him. He didn't even remember pushing her down, but he still felt the anger seething in him. "So you came to ravage me. I didn't see that coming."

"No.. I… I didn't come here for that." He moved to pull back from her but she had wrapped her fingers around his hair tightly to pull him closer, his face inches from hers she was smirking at him as he stared bewildered.

"No? You didn't. Did you come to save me from myself? Did you expect to find me in trouble and come rescue me?" Her lips brushed lightly against his and he felt his anger turn into something he remembered all too well, the thing that he had run away from. "Was that your way of apologizing? To show up here and be valiant?"

She had him trapped, though she was the one pinned. He didn't want to run away from this, he was done running, but this wasn't the same woman that was under him that night. "I was furious with you. I came to confront you."

She just smiled at him, amused again. She always seemed amused by what he said, like a parent was of a young child. Her fingers untwined from his hair to run down his jaw, tracing the outline delicately. "Shouldn't it be the other way around? Shouldn't I be telling you what nerve you have showing up at my mansion late at night after being gone a year." It wasn't a question. It was a statement she was telling him. She wasn't conventional; she didn't care how far he ran. She could survive without him he knew, is that why he wanted her so much? Was it because she was an impossible woman that had always danced out of his reach except for that one night? "I always knew you would return. I didn't know your leash was that long however."

"Leash?"She could see his anger rising again and she laughed. It hurt to be this close to him and yet so far away. There was a wall between them. Between what she had experienced and what she had become and what he expected her to be.

"The one wrapped around you by my stunning beauty. How could you ever truly leave someone as beautiful as me? I won't even go on about my intelligence and wealth… but if you aren't going to ravage me I would love to get out of the dirt."

"You are so full of yourself. From the stories I heard I thought you would be crushed and devastated but you only seem more enamored with yourself." He felt all his anger drifting away at her horrible humor. No wonder people would give up before fighting her.

"Oh? Has Varric been telling stories again? I keep telling him to embellish more, more things about ponies and sunshine but I guess that isn't as interesting as one-on-one combat with a Qunari leader."

"If I would have known about your mother I would have come back sooner..." He saw something flash across her face for an instant, like that façade she had put up weakened before him before it was back. The frown she was teetering between and the tears seemed too startling to him but she composed herself quickly and smiled, acting like that moment of weakness was an act.

"Well, Varric shouldn't be telling that story now.." He just stared down at her. He didn't know how to describe her or what she was. She was fragile, but she was made of stone. It was like a single tear might erode her away. She sighed. "Let me up then?"

He obliged, helping her to her feet by pulling her up by her arm. He held his hand there just above her elbow and she gave him a soft of confused look. He was hesitating between what he wanted to do and the fear of rejection. She had never rejected him though, it had been the other way around. Before the moment seemed gone or before she entered her opinion into it he pulled her closer, moving his hand from her arm to rest it on her hip as he kissed her passionately. He could taste her surprise, but she didn't stop him. She was more than willing to comply with him, the hard stone turning to putty as he ran his hands over her form, fondling her messily as she kissed back at him. The moment seemed to pass as she pulled away slightly, not too far to escape his touch but enough to make her intent known. Those blue eyes seemed clouded by something… desire, regret, tears… he couldn't tell anymore.

"This isn't the place. The leader will come back soon." She didn't want to say that, but she had to. She could feel the barriers she had placed around herself crumbling down at him being near her, it hurt. She wanted to cry the same way she did that night, it was taking everything to keep them back. She wasn't funny Hawke right now, she wasn't cunning Hawke. She was the Hawke caught in the wolf's teeth. She could feel herself futility trying to lose herself from his grip. She felt so powerful at her temptation the night before, at her torturing him as she stood next to Anders, but he had caught her out of her element. She truly hadn't expected him today, and she hadn't expected him on top of her. She could feel her brain shutting itself down at his touch.

"Are you truly worried, or do you not want me?"

And the four words she had never uttered in her life fell from her lips…"I do not know."

He smirked at her, letting her go to step away from her. It seemed he had the upper hand again. "I did not know I ruffled your feathers so much."

"You know you ruffle my feathers quite a bit." She was regaining her composure. Why was she such a child around the elf? Why did he have such power over her? The only men to refuse her now come before her wanting her, craving her, and she was afraid. She wanted him but she was so afraid.