Fenris was whetting his sword. It could not be sharp enough if Danarius came after him. The chair in which he was sitting was ridiculously luxurious for this kind of chore. The same could be said of the table, made of some exotic dark wood and decorated with complex spirals and other delicate shapes.
Two days had passed since he had spent the night with Hawke. Two days since he had left in the early morning. He had not heard from Hawke since. Which was good. It did not feel good at all, but he told himself it was a good thing. Soon, he would have it all sorted out. Now that Hawke was not bothering him anymore, Fenris would find a way to get Hawke out of his head as well. Once that was done, things would be back to normal, back to the way they had been for the past years. Except there would be less of Hawke. But that was good.
Fenris moved the sharpening tool up and down, over the length of the blade. He tried to distract his thoughts by focusing on a way to discover the whereabouts of his sister. Where to start? It seemed most likely she was somewhere in Tevinter, but where? Hadriana had said she was a servant. Where would she serve? Who? He could not just walk back into the Tevinter Imperium. Staying in this mansion was enough of a risk. It might be smarter to move... No need to make it any easier for Danarius to find him. But then again, did he not want to face Danarius finally? For that, it was better if Danarius came to him. And to stand a chance against Danarius, he needed Hawke by his side.
Fenris grumbled to himself. Hawke. Why did all his thoughts always have to return to Hawke? What was...
He stiffened in his large chair. Magic. He sensed magic in the house. Powerful magic. The lyrium in his skin buzzed and tingled. The hairs in his neck rose. Fenris tightened the grip on the hilt of his sword and held it ready. He could hear footsteps now too. He rose from his seat, taking a defensive posture, ready to attack or run. The footsteps got closer, the aura became stronger. Would Danarius simply walk inside? He would never risk going alone, would he? But yet he heard only one pair of footsteps. Perhaps Danarius wanted to show Fenris that he was still not able to stand against to him, even though he had managed to kill Danarius' apprentice. That would exactly be the kind of thing his master enjoyed doing: before he killed him, letting him know he had never stood a real chance. Well, he would not go down without a fight. He would fight till his very last breath. If only Hawke were here... then the odds would have been different.
The footsteps had almost reached the top of the stairs. Every muscle in Fenris' body was tensed, ready to make the required movement immediately. He inhaled deeply through his nose.
And blew the air out through his mouth while he let himself fall back in the chair. He threw his blade on the table. "Hawke." And to think I just wished for his presence.
Hawke frowned at the use of his last name, but made no comment on it. He strode casually into the room, as if he had gone on a walk and eventually found himself here, in this mansion, purely by accident.
"I thought I locked the door."
"You did. I brought Isabela along; she helped a little with the locks. She is standing guard outside now." Hawke halted in the middle of the room. He leaned on his staff, looking relaxed.
"And why did you find it necessary to break into my home? You could have knocked first."
"Yes, well, I thought maybe you wouldn't open the door if you knew it was me."
"And so you break in."
"Look at the bright side: now you know you need better locks. It took Isabela not even a minute to open these. No doubt Danarius could hire a lock picker of similar skill."
Fenris rubbed his brow. He still needed to recover a bit from the stress of thinking Danarius had come for him. This was the second time he had mistaken Hawke's aura for that of his former master. If continued at this rate, he would sooner die of a heart attack than by Danarius' hands.
Hawke apparently noticed something of his tenseness. "Something wrong? You look uneasy."
"What do you want, Hawke?" he sighed. "You didn't come here to tell me I need to change the locks."
"No, I didn't. I wanted to talk to you, messere "this-should-never-have-happened-in-the-first-place"."
What does it take to make this man give up? "I don't want to talk about it, Hawke. I have given you my explanation when I left. There is nothing left to say."
Hawke ignored his words. "The past two days I have spent thinking about what made you regret that night. Why you suddenly took off. You said the markings weren't the problem, so what was it?" He took a step towards the table, towards Fenris. "Do I snore? Because you should hear Carver. When we were all sleeping in one room in Gamlen's shack, I would pray to the Maker that I would fall asleep before he did, because once he started..." The light tone became more harsh and cold. "Was it because I am a man? Didn't you like that after all?" Another step. "Because I am a mage? Did you remember I have bad magic and didn't you want that after all?" He kept coming closer. "Was it all too much to take in?" He had reached the table. Fenris was glad it stood between them. It felt safe, like a shield. Normally he did not bother with a shield. Better to take the enemy down before he could try to hurt you. But he could not strike Hawke down. So now a shield would be rather useful... Hawke placed his hands on the table and leaned over it. "Did I remind you of your former master? Did I remind you of Danarius?"
His face was close to Fenris', very close. Their noses almost touched. Fenris was hurled between anger and embarrassment. At the moment the embarrassment was strongest. Hawke's last remark about Danarius, however, was enough to make his anger boil up.
"How dare..." Hawke interrupted him by slamming his flat hand on the table.
"I will have the truth from you, Fenris! I want the real reason, not that "it's not you, it's me" crap you gave me two days ago!"
"I have told you about my memory returning! It was too much. That you don't understand what that's like is your own problem!" The embarrassment was gone, only anger was left. Always anger.
"There is more to it than that. I know there is. Just tell me the problem. Maybe I can help you with it."
"I don't need your help." Not with this.
"Damn it, Fenris!" Hawke straightened his back and stared at him angrily. Fenris was primarily relieved that there was more space between them now. "You started this. You held me against the wall like that!"
"You kissed me!"
"Yes, because I saw in your eyes that you wanted it. I thought you didn't dare to make the move, so I did. And I haven't heard one word of protest from you. I left it for you to decide how far we would go, and you did. Because of you we ended up in the bedroom. You grabbed me. You made the next move. So why did you leave later?"
"I already toldyou! Why can't you just-"
"I knew something dirty was going on between you two!" Fenris jumped in his chair, cutting his hand on his sharpened sword in the brusque movement. Hawke whirled around on his heels to face the door, staff in hand.
Isabela appeared in the opening, a broad smile on her face and a devilish sparkle in her eyes. "Such an exciting image you have described for me." She placed a hand on her chest and sighed dramatically. "Could you go back to the part against the wall for me?"
As she said it, Fenris realized they indeed had summarized the events of the night quite nicely for her. Wonderful. Just what we need. Hawke was standing with his back to him, so Fenris could not see his facial expression, but when Hawke spoke, he did not sound very happy. "Isabela! I told you to stand guard outside."
"I got bored. Hightown is so dull. And I thought what you were up to would be more interesting."
"Bored? You must have stood there for not even thirty seconds before you came after me."
"Details." She waved the word away as if it were an annoying fly. "It sounds like someone here deserves a good spanking. Are there troubles in love land already?"
"That's none of your business," Hawke grumbled.
"He dumped you, didn't he?" Isabela smiled at Fenris, then looked at Hawke again. "Are you that bad?"
"What... I... no! I am not..." Hawke's cheeks turned a bright pink that did not go very well with the color of his beard. It would have been rather amusing in any other situation, any situation that did not involve that night. It was better than anything I could have dreamed...
Isabela had the time of her life, though. She laughed till she had tears in her eyes at the look of Hawke's face. "Aww, look at that! Hawke is blushing. How cute. You really are that bad then?"
Hawke glanced over his shoulder at Fenris, almost as if he hoped he would come to his defense, but Fenris did not feel inclined to help him. It was Hawke's own fault that Isabela was here. He should not even be here.
"If you want, I could teach you a thing or two." She gave Hawke a seductive wink. "Maybe your next lover won't ditch you immediately after then."
"Why, thank you, Isabela. But I think I'll pass."
"Spoilsport. Suit yourself." She placed her hands on her hips and looked from one to the other. "So, what's the real problem?"
"Like I said, that is none of your business. You've had your fun. Now get out."
"Maybe I can help!"
"I doubt it."
"Should I get a saw?"
Fenris frowned. "What would you need a saw for?" He checked the hearth. "I have enough firewood."
"Oh oh, sweety, you can never have enough wood," laughed Isabela.
"I don't understand."
Hawke interrupted. "Enough jokes, Isabela. If you still want my help to find that blasted relic of yours, you leave now."
"Ugh, you're no fun today, Hawke," she snorted as she turned around and walked out of the room, hips swaying.
They both remained silent for some time when she had left. Eventually it was Fenris who broke the silence with a chuckle. He shook his head. "You could have known she wouldn't stay outside."
Hawke sighed. "I hoped she would behave this time. Damn those rogues! I didn't bring Varric because he would have eavesdropped as well and then made some kind of ridiculous tale of it. I should have asked Sebastian."
"I doubt Isabela will keep this quiet."
"Oh, I don't even hope for that. Tonight the whole Hanged Man knows it."
Fenris leaned his forehead against his right hand. "That's just great, Hawke. Are you happy now?"
"Not really."
He looked up. "I think it is better if you leave as well."
Hawke stared at his face. "You're bleeding. Are you okay?"
He touched the skin of his forehead with his fingertips. They were wet and red when he removed them. He looked at the cut in the palm of his hand. It crossed the markings in a diagonal and was deeper than he initially would have thought. He had not felt anything until now. Now, it was starting to sting. "It's nothing."
Once again ignoring his words, Hawke came closer and bent over the table to grab his hand. Fenris' breath caught at the touch. The lines of lyrium in his wrist underneath Hawke's thumbs started to glow, spreading a heat both to the tips of his fingers and his arm. He knew Hawke could feel his pulse beating faster against his thumbs.
"Let me heal this."
He pulled his hand free of Hawke's grip. "No. It's just a scratch."
"You can't hold your sword like that. And it could fester. Do you want to lose your whole hand because of a simple scratch?"
Fenris held his right wrist with his left hand to keep it away from Hawke. "Leave me alone, Hawke."
Hawke did not move. "I have healed you plenty of times, from things more and less serious than this. It will only take a few seconds."
When Fenris did not respond and kept looking at the wall on his left, Hawke sighed. "Look, I know it might be a bit... awkward, maybe. If you don't want me to heal you anymore, that's fine. I will respect that. But then you have to go to Anders. You shouldn't risk going to any of the imposters Kirkwall is crawling with. So it's either me or Anders. And I will keep pestering you until you choose."
Fenris growled through his gritted teeth. Hawke laughed. "That's what I thought. Now give me your hand."
Begrudgingly, he stretched out his hand to Hawke, who held it carefully in his own two hands. Hawke closed his eyes to focus on the wound. Fenris fixated his gaze on Hawke's face. He wanted to look away, but he could not avert his eyes. Again, Hawke was so near. He could see every separate hair of his beard, every pore and line in his skin. He smelled cleaner than two nights ago. No sweat this time. Hawke's lips were slightly parted. Fenris remembered how those lips had kissed his own, and where else those lips had traveled. He could still feel them, the memory of them lingered. He wanted to feel them again. He wanted to kiss, touch, feel, taste.
He tried to swallow, but his mouth had suddenly become dry as sand. He let his tongue run over his lips to moisturize them. He tried to revive the anger he had experienced when Hawke mentioned Danarius, but it would not come back. I can't even stay mad at him anymore.
The burning of the lyrium got company of the warmth of Hawke's healing magic. The edges of the gash melted together and the pain dissolved; all in the blink of an eye. The only thing left on the palm of his hand was a smear of blood, and hidden underneath, just the faint line of a scar. Fenris flexed and extended his fingers, not really because he doubted anything would not work, but more as an automatism. He still found it difficult to believe that magic that could do things like this existed.
"See, no big deal."
"Thank you."
"You've still got blood on your face, though." Before Fenris had the chance to dodge, Hawke got a firm hold on his face with one hand and started to wipe it clean with the other. Fenris struggled to evade him, but the chair limited his range of motion and Hawke's fingers around his face made it even harder to escape. A chair as a prison. That's all it takes.
Satisfied with the result of his cleaning attempt, Hawke smiled at him. "All done." Yet he did not let go of Fenris' face. One hand he held against his cheek.
"Fenris..."
Fenris turned away his head and stood up from his chair to get away from Hawke. "Hawke..."
"You really refuse to tell me?" Hawke waited for an answer, and when that did not come, he continued: "You could have left while I was asleep, but you didn't. You stayed. You stayed and waited for me to wake up. You wanted me to know it meant something to you."
Fenris turned to face the wall, his arms folded in front of his chest.
"I just... want you to know that it meant something for me too. I can't force you to do anything, and I don't want to either. But... I enjoyed that night. I hoped there would be more."
That one night was already more than I deserved. "Hawke, if you have need of me in battle, you can call upon me. But for the rest... please let me be for the time being."
"If that is what you want," Hawke said slowly.
It's not what I want. The absence of your touch hurts more than the touch itself. But this is what I have to, need to do. I wish I could...
"Take all the time you need. I am a patient man, Fenris. Just, don't go hiding any injuries from me, okay? Even if they don't seem very serious, let me heal them." Some wounds cannot be healed.
He heard Hawke's footsteps. He was not coming closer. He was leaving. Fenris shut his eyes, listening to the sound. The sound of Hawke walking out on him. Finally.
The footsteps stopped. It was too soon to be out of earshot.He looked over his shoulder to see Hawke standing in the door opening, also looking over his shoulder. "Are you certain you still don't want me to teach you how to read?"
His first reaction was to say no. The less he saw Hawke, the better. But before he spoke the word, he paused. Learning to read and write could be useful in the search for his sister. And he really wanted to learn. No longer being illiterate was one step further in the direction of a new life, the life of a free man and not a slave.
But it would mean more time with Hawke. Worse: just him and Hawke. Not with two others and an army of enemies surrounding them, but the two of them, sitting in a room, surrounded by books. Although, it might be useful to see Hawke in a different role, as a teacher. Perhaps it would help to get over this... foolishness.
So he gave Hawke a nod. "I would, if you still want to teach me."
"Alright. Your first lesson is tomorrow evening. I'll be here after sunset." And with that, he really left.
Fenris sighed. He had won. Hawke had given up. Why did it not feel like a victory?