The sun had just set when Hawke arrived at Fenris' mansion. This time, Fenris was prepared and did not mistake Hawke's aura for Danarius'. Not that he was very relaxed under these circumstances... The entire day he had been anxious due to the prospect of the first reading lesson. He feared Hawke might bring up their conversation of yesterday again and would keep insisting on a more sufficient explanation this time. An explanation Fenris could never give.
His efforts to think of other things, anything but Hawke, kept failing. Even in his dreams Hawke followed him. This morning Fenris had awoken twisted in his sheets, covered with sweat and aroused. It had taken some time for him to realize Hawke that was not there and never had been. The dream had seemed so real that he could still feel Hawke's hands, travelling, exploring, teasing. Apparently that one night had provided his subconscious with enough material to go creative on its own.
That he could control his waking thoughts no more than his dreams frustrated Fenris to no end. The worst part was that he had been disappointed when he had woken up and found out it had all been a dream, and that he kept reliving the moments with Hawke in his head, sleeping or awake. Danarius used to be the one who occupied his thoughts and haunted his dreams. Now, he had to force himself to even think about his former master and his possible plans.
Fenris had not left the mansion the past three days. Yesterday evening there would have been a game of diamondback with the party in the Hanged Man, but he had decided it was most unwise to show his face there at the moment. He did not need to guess what would be the subject of discussion, and the idea of having to listen to the jokes and questions of Isabela, Varric, and the rest was not appealing at all. That, and Hawke would be there too. Or would he not want to deal with all the prying either? Hawke had not been pleased when Isabela had shown up, that was certain. "Tonight, the whole Hanged Man knows it." Only later Fenris had realized what the true consequences of that would be. His markings and white hair made him more than recognizable. He had often been seen in Hawke's company, who was well-known by his rise to nobility and his current interactions with the viscount. If there were stories about Hawke and that strange elf, people would know it was about him. He should not draw any more attention, but thanks to Isabela he would suddenly be in the center of it. If Danarius would not be drawn to it, then at least more bounty hunters would.
He could only hope interest would be lost quickly. It was not like he and Hawke were lovers now. One night; there was nothing more to it. People would find something else to talk about soon enough. Until then, he would simply avoid being seen outside.
Hawke was carrying two books in his hands and a bag that seemed to be filled with parchment, quills and ink bottles.
"Aren't we going to start with the book about Shartan?" Fenris asked when he saw that.
"Not that I doubt you will make an excellent student, but I think that book will be a bit too difficult to start with. Unfortunately we had to leave my children's books behind when the darkspawn attacked, but I went to the Lowtown market today and bought a few books that are simple enough. I even found what used to be my favorite, look!" Hawke rummaged in the bag, found what he was searching for and waved a pretty badly damaged book around. The image on the cover was barely recognizable. Fenris could make out two people, one man and one woman, judged by their clothing. And something with wings.
"Very well." He held his face expressionless, hoping he would come across as completely calm and not nervous. What if he made a fool out of himself in front of Hawke? The illiterate slave... only good at killing and breaking his word.
"Okay, let's see how this goes. I'm not sure if I am a very good teacher, so feel free to say so when things should go faster or slower."
Despite what Hawke - and Fenris himself - might have thought, Hawke was not a bad teacher. He let Fenris take his time and made no jokes or mocking comments if Fenris made a mistake. Perhaps he knew that if he did that, that would be the end of the reading lessons.
After a first introduction to the alphabet, Hawke decided it would be good if he learned to write the letters to become more familiar with them. He handed Fenris a piece of parchment, an ink bottle and a large quill. Fenris took the feather and dipped the point in the ink. Hawke showed him how he had to hold his fingers. It felt awkward, and instead of a letter his first attempt became a black blotch on the sheet.
His grip on the quill became cramped as he tried to form letters on the parchment. Although he did his best, his work looked no better than that of a four year old child. Still, Hawke smiled encouragingly at him as he sensed Fenris' increasing frustration.
"You are doing well, don't worry," he said. "This is your first time. Try to relax your fingers bit more. You're holding a quill, not a sword, and the feather won't fly away. Wait," he added as he saw Fenris struggle. He touched his fingers and adjusted their position on the quill. Fenris swallowed back his protests to the touch. Instead, he stayed silent as he let Hawke find the right place for his fingers. He caught himself enjoying the feeling of Hawke's warm fingers on his hand. When his hold finally had become more as it should be, Hawke's fingers lingered for maybe a second on the back of his hand before pulling back, activating a small branch of lyrium in doing so. The line lit up immediately, spreading the familiar heat.
"Try again."
While he obeyed, Fenris noticed Hawke looking away for a moment before he returned his gaze to the parchment. Fenris thought he could hear him swallow.
Writing went a little better this time and he successfully reproduced the entire alphabet after Hawke's example, or at least something that more or less looked like it. Hawke complimented him with this first attempt and then made him do it two more times. The visible difference between his first and third alphabet was minimal, but at the end of the last try he had gotten a bit more used to the feeling of the quill and the interaction with the parchment.
"Shall we try to write your name? Okay, first you need the 'F'. Do you remember which one that is?"
With Hawke's instructions, it didn't take long before he had written his name for the first time. He stared at the crude letters that spelled 'FENRIS'. The 'E' looked as if it was about to eat the 'N' and the space between the 'I' and the 'S' was too wide, but still, it was his name and he had written it. He looked up and smiled at Hawke, who returned his smile. The light of the candles danced on his face and added a golden glow to his skin. The rest of the room was dark.
When he had written 'Fenris' several times, Hawke proposed to try his name. He named the letters one by one, until next to the first 'FENRIS' there had appeared a 'HAWKE'. Not satisfied with the 'K', Fenris wrote another 'Hawke' next to the second 'Fenris', and then he decided to complete the set and add a 'Hawke' to every 'Fenris' he had written down. Satisfied, he pushed the now full sheet of parchment towards Hawke. Hawke nodded in approval.
"Very good." Hawke leaned back in his seat, bent forward again and picked up one of the books he had brought. "Try to spell the letters and see if you then can make out the words," he said as he opened the book on the first page.
Squinting his eyes to make out the letters in the dim light, Fenris started with the new task. To see what he was reading, Hawke leaned closer over the table than with the writing. Fenris could smell his hair. He shook his head and focused all his attention on reading the words, which was definitely necessary. While he struggled to make it through the first page, he almost forgot it was Hawke who was sitting next to him. He was only reminded of his presence when he corrected him on a word or helped him a bit when he got stuck on a longer combination of letters.
Word for word he progressed, slowly but steadily. When he finally reached the end of the page, he had no idea of the actual meaning of what he had just read. All his concentration had gone to deciphering every separate word; no attention was left to process the story as a whole.
Fenris relaxed a little now that he had finished the first page. He had not realized how tensed he had been while leaning over the book. Hawke sat upright again as well, with a faint smile on his face.
"So..." Fenris felt he needed to break the silence that suddenly hung between them and that quickly grew uncomfortable. "How bad was I?"
Hawke stared at him, surprised. "What? You weren't bad at all! You were pretty good, actually. It went better than I expected. Really, for a first time, this went very well. I am a happy teacher."
Although he tried to hide it, Fenris felt proud at those words. He could not prevent a smile from cracking through the mask of calm demeanor he had assumed this entire evening. Perhaps he could be more after all. Up to now he had doubted he would actually be able to learn. He had half expected Hawke would eventually shake his head and say this was not such a good idea after all. But Hawke said he did well. He would learn how to read. "Really?" Hawke's confirmation meant more to him than it should, but he asked for it nevertheless.
"Absolutely." Hawke's gaze went over the table and remained on the candles. Fenris had lit new ones when Hawke arrived, but now they were almost burned up. Only small stubs were left. If they were not replaced soon, they would be left in the dark.
"We've been working longer than I thought," Hawke remarked. "Time went by fast. I think this is enough for tonight." He stood up and started gathering the parchment, quills and books. Fenris wondered why he had bothered to bring so much stuff with him in the first place. "Tomorrow, same time, at my place." He gestured towards one of the dark corners of the room. "The corpse in the corner is looking at me." He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the shape. "Or skeleton, I suppose. After three years, not much more can be left of him. I can't focus on books with skeletons watching me. Too much undead have tried to eat me. I don't understand why you don't tidy this place up a bit after all this time."
Fenris shrugged. "As long as Danarius is alive and can come back to claim his mansion, I am not cleaning it. I don't want to give him the pleasure of having taken care of his property while he was away."
"And thus you let dead bodies lie around..."
"If he arrives while I am not here, he might think I have moved after all. The dead bounty hunters could help to keep the illusion alive."
Hawke let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. "I get it, I get it. You have very good reasons to leave this mess as it is. Well, my house is clean, thanks to Bodahn. We'll practice there from now on."
Fenris tried to qucikly come up with an argument against this, but he could not think of anything. Not anything legitimate, that was. It felt safer to do it here. What had happened the last time he had visited Hawke's place... But that won't happen again. So, no real problem. Books were books, no matter where they were read. And Hawke had made no remark of their night together or yesterday's argument. He truly had given up then. He had probably realized himself that this was for the best.
"Alright."
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then." Hawke hoisted the full bag up on his shoulder. "Have you already decided what you are going to do? About your sister I mean. Are you going to search for her?"
"I... no. It is too much of a risk."
"Are you certain? I would gladly help you. She is your only family. Maybe we could..."
"Hawke. I said 'no'."
Hawke opened his mouth, appeared to change his mind, then nodded instead. "Okay. Just... let me know if you ever do want to find her." He sighed again. "I'm going to the Hanged Man. I need a drink."
Fenris watched Hawke's dark silhouette become darker as he got farther away from the candles on the table. He had forgotten to make any other light in the house. After a few steps he could not distinguish Hawke anymore from the other black shapes in the hall. Absentmindedly he rubbed his forehead with one hand. From the corner of his eye he could see the scrap of red fabric that was still tied around his wrist. Now that Hawke had left, he felt tired. The lesson had been intensive in a way he had not anticipated. Who would have thought that reading and writing was so exhausting?
Fenris glanced at his bed, trying to decide whether he should go to sleep already. The only thing that was withholding him was the fear he would dream again. Sighing, he got up from the chair. If he would dream, he would also dream if he waited another hour, he told himself. Postponement would not help him. And dreams meant nothing. You could dream the most absurd things without them meaning anything. Perhaps he would dream of letters and books tonight.
He did not like lying to Hawke about his sister, but if he told him the truth, Hawke would want to help, and Fenris did not want that. He would find another way, a way that did not further increase his debt to Hawke. Besides, there was not much Hawke could do. He did not know anything about Tevinter. How could he be of use in the search for a certain elven servant? No, nothing would be lost by not informing Hawke about his plans. He did not even have plans yet. He still had to figure something out.
Fenris blew out the candles and stumbled in the direction of his bed in the complete darkness. When he reached it, he sat down on the mattress. He really was tired. He considered simply lying down, fully clothed, but then he decided against it and took off his upper clothing. "It would ruin your feathers." He grinned in the dark, then frowned at his own reaction. Do not think about it. With his breeches still on, he pulled the sheets over him and lay his head on the pillow. He fell asleep almost immediately after he closed his eyes. Hawke welcomed him as if he had been waiting for him.