What has magic touched that it doesn't spoil? Those words he had once spoken in anger, but how true they always turned out to be. Magic created monstrosities and destroyed good and beautiful things. He had seen it so many times. And now, now magic had dug its claws into Hawke's life and torn it apart.
Fenris glanced at Hawke from the corner of his eye while he walked beside him. Anders and Sebastian followed two steps behind. Nothing was to be seen on Hawke's blank face. No expression, no pain, no grief. Nothing. He looked as calm as always, while he marched in the direction of his mansion with a firm pace. As if nothing had happened. As if he had not just held what was left of his mother in his arms and heard her whisper goodbye. As if he had not sat motionless in that place filled with death, with Leandra in his arms, for more than half an hour, without saying a single word. As if he had not suddenly gotten up and began to carry his mother's corpse out of that room, to deliver her to a place where they would take care of her remains.
Fenris had offered to help carry her, but Hawke had only shaken his head. And now they were walking back to the estate. At least, that was where Fenris presumed they were heading. Hawke was walking fast. Fenris had to do his best to keep up with him. He could hear the deep breathing of the two men behind them.
As they passed the Chantry, Sebastian broke the silence. "I am going to the Chantry," he said to Hawke. "I will pray for your mother's soul."
Hawke only gave one nod, so quick it could barely be recognized as such. Sebastian left the small, silent group and they continued their walk.
Again, Fenris glanced at Hawke, hoping to see something, anything that could pass for an emotion, did not matter which. But he saw nothing.
Would Hawke snap? Had he snapped? Mages were vulnerable when they lost control. Hawke was the strongest person he had ever known, but would the sudden, gruesome death of his mother push him over the edge every mage was balancing on? In an instant, that what had seemed impossible had become a realistic fear. Fenris stayed alert, his senses highly active, so that he would immediately notice if a demon took over.
When Hawke's home got in sight, Anders increased his step length to walk next to Hawke's other side. Fenris did not like seeing that abomination so close to Hawke. That was currently the last thing Hawke needed: someone who had already fallen prey to a demon.
As Hawke put his key in the lock of the front door, the abomination placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Hawke," he spoke softly. "Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want me to stay with you for a while?"
Fenris clenched his fists as he heard those words. Who does he think he is? What makes him think Hawke needs him? That he has been talking to Hawke every night in the Hanged Man doesn't mean...
The reply came with a tone as cool and empty as Hawke's face. "Thank you, Anders. But I don't think that is necessary. You should go home."
Fenris waited for instructions on his behalf, but Hawke did not speak to him. Should I leave as well? I probably should. He saw Anders looking at him while Hawke turned the key in the lock.
"What do you think you're doing?" the abomination hissed at him. "You should leave him alone too. You're the last one he needs right now."
Funny, that's what I just thought about you. "I don't see how that could be for you to decide."
"You think you can offer him comfort? After what you've done? You'd only make him feel worse, with you blaming magic for everything. Does he have to hate himself as well for what some insane monster did? Is that what you want?"
Hawke had opened the door and stepped inside. Fenris expected the door to fall shut behind him, but he simply left it open and walked through the hall without paying any attention to him or Anders. Is that a hint?
With Hawke gone, Anders raised his voice. "You left him. You don't care how he feels. Don't bother to pretend now."
Along with his anger, the lyrium got activated. "Do not speak of things you know nothing about."
Anders mockingly raised an eyebrow at him. Then his face turned uninterested and he shrugged. He left without saying another word.
Fenris stared at the open door of the house, in doubt. Was Anders right and could he not offer any comfort? Would Hawke want him to try? What should he say? He did not know any comforting words that would make someone feel better. He knew how to kill, and they had already killed the man who had done this. And he had indeed left Hawke, something he had clearly not forgiven him yet. The situation between them was, at best, awkward. As far as Fenris knew Hawke had not tried to drown himself in his ale anymore, and he had never again seen him in the shape he had during the second reading session. But sometimes Hawke looked at him in a certain way, a way that made him feel uneasy. He thought he could recognize desire in that look, as he had in that night. He was probably imagining things, with his mind colored by his own foolish desires.
He had always suspected Hawke's blind trust in mages would once be betrayed, but that it had to be in this way... Not every mage was as strong as Hawke; it even seemed only Hawke was strong. Would the weak ones have destroyed the single strong one?
The mage had spoken of love; he had done all this out of love. He had murdered several women to create love. If love caused this, it was as terrible a power as magic. Could love actually be the cause of something so foul?
None of these things would offer comfort to Hawke if he said them out loud. So what should he do? Leave and let Hawke be alone with his grief? It felt so cowardly to walk away again. And selfish. This had nothing to do with him and his fears, this was about Hawke. Hawke had lost his family today. Fenris thought about that expressionless face of Hawke. He had to do something. He owed Hawke more than silent absence. Perhaps Hawke did not want him here, but then he would simply be sent away. He would at least have shown he cared. Leandra had been kind to him the few times he had joined for dinner. The first dinner had by far not been as bad as he had feared. Leandra had done her best to make him feel welcome, something he was still not used to. People tended to be afraid of him, intimidated by his appearance. She had not been intimidated, or if she had been, she had done her best to look past it. She had been a good, sweet woman. She deserved better than what that madman had done to her.
Fenris took a deep breath and entered the estate.
When he stepped into the living room, he could hear Hawke's uncle, Gamlen, yell. "What kind of nightmarish magic is that? Oh Maker... Maybe the templars are right. Lock the mages up! Throw away the key!"
Fenris could barely hear Hawke's soft response. "And what about me, Uncle?"
He returned on his steps back into the hall. This conversation was not meant for his ears.
It did not take long before Gamlen came into the hallway, sobbing. He saw Fenris, but walked past him and left the house without looking at him or saying anything.
Fenris waited a short time before he entered the living room again. Bodahn just came down the stairs.
"Messere! I did not know you were here." he said. "Are you here for messere Hawke?"
"I am."
"Ah." Bodahn seemed nervous. "Forgive me my manners, but do you know about..."
"Yes. She is dead."
"Oh. How terrible! She was such a kind, loving woman. She reminded me of my own mother..."
Fenris interrupted the dwarf. "Where is Hawke?"
"He is in his bedroom, messere. I wanted to check on him and ask if he had found... But he did not want to speak to me."
"Thank you." Slowly, Fenris climbed the stairs. The chance he would be sent away seemed large. Hawke did not want to see anybody at the moment. Fenris was probably at the bottom of his list...
He had reached the door of Hawke's room. It was ajar. He pushed it further open and took a step into the room.
Hawke was sitting on his large bed and stared into the hearth. He did not look up as Fenris entered. As far as Fenris could he see, he was not crying. There was still no emotion on Hawke's face.
I think I'm supposed to say something now. He had been so busy deciding whether to go to Hawke or not, that he had forgotten to come up with something to say when he actually went. He decided to go with that. "I don't know what to say, but I am here."
He prepared himself for being sent back to where he came from, but Hawke turned his head to him and said instead: "Just say something. Anything."
I have no idea what to say, that's what I just told him. Fenris did his best to remember words that could be sufficient for Hawke. Certainly he must have heard something, somewhere. "Eh... they say death is only a journey." Where did I even hear that? He came closer to Hawke, hoping to catch a first glimpse of feeling if he simply got near enough. "Does that help?"
A frown appeared in Hawke's forehead as he considered those words. "It just raises questions. Journey to where?"
I think I heard this in the Chantry. Sebastian would be better at this. Why did I even bother to come? I am of no use. Hawke's expression remained so empty. Was he not supposed to look sad, with his mother gone? Was something wrong with him? Had he truly snapped and fallen prey to a demon? I suppose he would not look calm then either. "I don't know." I can't leave yet, even though I have nothing to say. Before he realized it himself, he sat down on the bed, next to Hawke, yet careful not to touch him. "It's just something people say."
He was quiet for a moment, aware that Hawke was looking at him. "To be honest, I don't think there is much point in filling these moments with empty talk."
Hawke nodded and returned his gaze to the flames in the hearth. They sat silent for a moment, both aware of each other's presence. Apparently Hawke decided he did not agree with what Fenris had said, because he broke the silence with a question. "What about your mother? Is she still alive?"
What kind of question is that? "I don't know. I have no memory of her." Which you know, so why do you even ask? "At least you knew your mother."
Hawke let out a mocking laugh. Fenris nearly jumped at the sound. "Ha! Of course. How could I forget. Whatever it is I am going through, it can never be so bad as what happened to you. I have not been a slave. I am so lucky to still have all my memories." Hawke abruptly jumped up from the bed, his face at once twisted in anger. Fenris got up too, taking a step back at Hawke's unexpected rage. "Why am I even whining?! I am a mage after all. I can just... do what that freak did and build a new mother! Perhaps I can make a new you as well while I'm at it. Tell me, are there more lyrium-infused body parts to be found in Tevinter, or will I have to experiment with that too?"
Fenris could not bring out a single word in his surprise. He felt his mouth hanging open, but was not able to close it. He could only stare at Hawke, who was breathing faster in his rage.
"Why are you even here?" Hawke growled. "To tell me again how evil magic is? That I shouldn't have trusted that filthy pig Gascard? That this is my punishment for allowing him to use blood magic to find Mother? To say "I told you so"? Why bother to pretend you care about something else than your own problems?"
He felt the air get heavy around him. Breathing became difficult. Alarmed, he staggered another step backwards."Hawke. Stop." He tried to suck in a new breath, but the pressure was increasing fast and was already too high to allow his lungs to take in air. Fenris opened his mouth further, desperate for air as panic rose in his throat. "Stop!" He activated his markings, hoping the lyrium would absorb part of the spell and diminish the effect, but it was too powerful. There was not the slightest relief.
His knees could no longer carry the weight and buckled. Fenris fell on his hands and knees, the muscles of his chest working in a desperate attempt to gain oxygen. Spots danced before his eyes, the edges of his vision became blurred. "S... st..." With no air, his mouth could not create the word. The memory of Danarius' laughter rang inside his head. "On your knees, my pet!"
Even more quickly than it had arisen, the pressure disappeared. He gasped and sweet air flowed back into his lungs, so sudden he choked on his own saliva. Coughing and panting he tried to get back on his feet, something that was not as easy as it should be. His legs felt weak and protested against standing up. He looked at Hawke before he turned around. Hawke stood next to his bed, no longer with anger in his posture. With wide eyes he stared back at Fenris, seemingly as shocked as Fenris felt. This was clearly a mistake. He doesn't want me here. I could have known. I should have known. His legs protested even harder against walking, but he had to walk to get out of here. All this time I was worried about hurting him. It never even occurred to me that he could hurt me too, that we could hurt each other. Everyone is dangerous when they lose control.
That's actually not a very comforting thought.
"Fenris. Wait."
He wanted to leave, he really wanted to. Hawke had gone too far. No command could make him stay after this. Except that this had not been a command. It had been a plea. Despite his anger, his hurt, the way Hawke had spoken those words made Fenris stop on his way to the door. Will I ever make it to that door in one try?
"I... I'm sorry. I didn't want... I'm so sorry. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps everyone is right and should I be locked up." Hawke sank back on the edge of the bed. "It's just... I... I keep seeing that... cut in her neck, with those stitches... I... what did he even do to her? Did he cut off her head and sow it back on another body? Did he p... peel off her face? Do you think she was in pain? I... oh Maker, I think I feel sick." Hawke gagged and dropped to the ground, on his knees, reaching for the chamber pot. He was just in time.
Fenris walked back and kneeled next to Hawke. I suppose this counts as emotion. I really should learn to be careful what I wish for.
Hawke wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. Fenris helped him get back on the bed and sat beside him, still careful to leave some space between them. Hawke avoided his eyes and stared at his hands instead, which he was holding in his lap.
"I don't want to remember that," he said. His voice was unsteady. "I know you want your memory back, but I want to forget what happened today. I don't want to keep seeing..." His shoulders started shaking as tears began to roll over his cheeks into his beard. More emotion.
"But I can't recall what I did today. What was I doing? Was I helping the mages? Was it something with those damned Qunari? Was I trying to help one of my friends? What was so important that I couldn't protect my own mother? I should have looked after her. She was the last one, and I couldn't save her. Just as I couldn't save Bethany. And Carver... he might as well be dead now too, as far as we know. Perhaps a darkspawn is chewing his head off as we speak." Hawke's body shook more severe as grief seemed to overwhelm him. This is not just about Leandra. This is about his sister too.
"Mother blamed me for Beth's death. I should have stopped her, attacked first, done something, but I didn't do anything. I just stood there and watched my little sister being beaten to the ground. I... remember the sound of her skull cracking, how it smashed open like a rotten tomato... Mother has never gotten over it. All those nights we were sleeping in the same tiny room at Gamlen's... I could hear her cry. She always cried very quietly, but I heard her. And... I wanted to make her feel better, but I never said anything, never did anything, because I knew... I knew it was my fault she was hurting in the first place." Hawke sobbed uncontrollably. We all carry our share of guilt.
"And then Carver... When I had to tell her he was not coming back, that I didn't know if he ever would be coming back... She was so... I know it killed her inside. And now I have failed again. I have failed to save her. Gamlen was right. I should have been faster... Am I to blame for not saving her?"
When it remained silent after that question, Fenris realized it had been directed at him. He had been listening to Hawke in silence, lost in his own thoughts; no reaction seemed to be expected from him. Until now.
"I could say no, but would that help? You are looking for forgiveness, but I am not the one who can give it to you."
"All I can do is kill. I kill people. Fast. I had never killed anything before the Blight, but now it's all I'm known for. I am that Fereldan who is good at killing people. But what does it matter if I can't save the ones I care about? What does it matter I win every battle? I have beaten Quentin as well, but Mother is still dead. It didn't bring her back."
"You have saved lives as well, Hawke. You save people by killing others, and you save by healing. I know you have saved me many times."
"But why would I be any better than the people I kill? Am I right because I won? What makes me better than Quentin? All that man wanted was the woman he loved back. And that's... that's just so sad. Right now, I can almost imagine why he did...
What good has it done me? All I have now is a big wallet and a big house with nobody in it but me and my dog and my servants." There appeared to be no end to the tears streaming over Hawke's face.
"Fenris." Hawke turned his head a little so that he was now staring at Fenris' knees instead of his own. "I... I know you hate me and all, b... but... could you... please... hold me, only for a second? I feel like I'm falling apart."
Fenris stiffened at the bizarre request. Nothing makes sense anymore tonight. Close contact with Hawke was what he wanted to avoid. He did not trust himself when Hawke touched him. It felt too good, and it should not feel good. But Hawke looked so lost, so hurt right now. That Hawke could look so helpless Fenris would never have guessed. He had come to offer comfort. If this was what Hawke needed, he should set aside his own issues, if only for a while. So he carefully raised his arms and pulled Hawke against him, who gratefully leaned his head in Fenris' neck and grabbed his left arm with his right hand. Fenris hissed at the feeling of the markings singing in his skin. Hawke clung onto him as if he was afraid to fall off the bed. Fenris felt tears drip on his neck.
"Haven't I told you before I don't hate you?"
Hawke sniffed. "Yeah, well, you kind of proved that point invalid by running off a few hours later with the comment "it should never have happened in the first place"."
Fenris closed his eyes for a moment. I really destroyed something by doing that. If he only knew how much I care. I can't stop caring. If he knew...
"Hawke, I..."
"Shhh." Hawke silenced him by pressing a finger against his lips. "You were right. Let's not fill these moments with empty talk."
He is so close. Fenris felt the longing of his body. In this time of grief and despair, he was aroused. He felt how he became hard. I want him. Right now. He is crying and so sad and he just used magic on me and made it impossible to breathe and I want him. I want to feel him, from inside out, feel him around me. I must be going insane. No, I already have. How can I even think about this at such a time? He smells of blood and death and vomit and sweat and tears but I want him and it hurts. My markings don't even hurt anymore when he touches me. It feels good now, and it hurts that it feels good. I want him.
They sat in silence, in their embrace. Every now and then, Hawke shook and let out a sob. Fenris held him while trying to fight the betrayal of his own body. He feared Hawke could smell his arousal. He could himself.
"She liked you, you know," Hawke mumbled against Fenris' neck. "After she had gotten used to your... appearance, she really liked you. She thought you were very sweet and polite and intelligent. She enjoyed having you for dinner."
"She was a good woman. I liked her too."
"She wanted to know why I hadn't made a move yet. She told me I should stop being such a chicken and go for it." Hawke laughed and cried at the same time.
"I... I'm sorry," Fenris whispered.
"I have never told her."
After another silence, Fenris said: "I want to forget things as well."
He already started to believe Hawke did not understand what he meant, or that he simply did not care, when Hawke lifted his head a little from his shoulder. "The Fog Warriors?"
Fenris nodded.
Hawke let his head rest in Fenris' neck again. "I understand." He does. Perhaps for the first time, he truly understands. And I think... I understand him. We understand each other, at least at the moment.
Neither of them knew something else to say. Enough had been said for now, more than enough. But so many things are left unsaid at the same time... He tried to keep his breathing deep and even to relax. Hawke's breath stroked the skin of his neck. The lyrium even reacted to these tiny air currents. Fenris knew the lines in his neck were glowing softly, while those on his arm where Hawke's fingers rested, burned more fiercely. He held his mouth tightly shut, afraid a moan would escape from it otherwise. The wanting was beating through his veins.
Time passed, and finally Hawke's crying became calmer, until the sobbing stopped completely. By the way the grip of his fingers loosened and his breathing slowed, Fenris knew Hawke had fallen asleep. He let out the groan that had been lying on his lips for such a long time. He lowered his head to lean with his cheek against the top of Hawke's head. I am here, Hawke.
Careful not to wake Hawke, Fenris lay down, still holding Hawke against him. He knew he would be unable to sleep like this, but wanted to make sure Hawke would at least not wake up with a sore back caused by sleeping in this awkward position.
And so they lay, legs hanging over the edge of the mattress. Fenris stared at the ceiling, remembering how he had lain here once before, Hawke asleep and he awake. Then he had decided he had made a mistake and had to leave. Now he almost started to think that had been a mistake. But I can't. I just can't. It's still too much. This is all too much. It is insane and too much. It hurts too much. "I am not in love," he whispered to the dark ceiling. "I am not in love."
He was close to sleep after all when Hawke stirred. He stayed still for a while but then Hawke broke the silence with a moan. "Hmm. Fenris? I... what time is it?"
"Still early in the morning."
"What? You stayed all this time? But... you didn't have to do that." Hawke sat upright and rubbed his eyes.
"You asked me to stay, so I did." Fenris followed his example and pushed himself upward.
"But I didn't mean... you shouldn't have... Have you slept at all? You don't look like you've had any sleep. You look as bad as I feel. I suppose that means I look at least as bad as you do."
"I don't need much sleep anyway."
"I... thank you, Fenris." Hawke smiled a sad smile to him, leaned to the side and pressed a kiss on his lips. It was different from the kisses they had exchanged during their night together. Those kisses had been passionate, hungry, wild, fierce, long. This kiss was none of that. It was brief; before Fenris could react, Hawke had already withdrawn. But at the same time, it was intimate and showed affection in another way. Perhaps it had not even been a real kiss; only a brushing of lips.
"I have really said those thing to you, haven't I? Oh, I am so sorry. You know I didn't mean it, right? I shouldn't have gotten mad at you. I... don't know why I lost control like that, but... there is no excuse for what I did."
Fenris got up from the bed. "It's okay."
"No, it's not. I am so ashamed. You didn't deserve any of that. Please say you know I didn't mean it."
"I know."
"Why did you stay after what I did?" Hawke paused while he thought about his own question. "You... you weren't afraid I would fall to the demons, were you?"
"No, that was not it." As he said it, he realized it was true. He had never truly believed Hawke would give in to a demon, not even in his darkest hour. Hawke was stronger than that. Hawke was the strongest and most honorable man he had ever known. But he was a man as well. A man who was hurting and grieved. That he did those things did not make him less strong.
Hawke looked relieved and grateful. "Thank you," he said again. "Now you should go home and try to get some sleep. You must be tired."
"Will... will you be alright?"
Hawke ran a hand through his hair, which was still partially braided. "I will, I think. Someday. Not yet. Not now. But I am a little better than yesterday, thanks to you."
When Fenris left the house, he knew they would never speak of this night again, just as they did not speak of the other night they had spent together. It was added to the things they shared, but hung silently between them, always remembered by both of them, but never acknowledged.
Hawke smiled at him. His thick, auburn hair was loose and hung over his shoulders. He was completely naked.
"Why don't you leave me alone?" Fenris sighed.
Hawke's smile broadened. "I would go," he said, "If you actually wanted me to." He came closer. "And you don't want me to leave." He leaned against Fenris and kissed him.
Fenris sighed again and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Hawke's lips and the taste of his mouth.
A large hand closed around his throat and squeezed it shut, sending a burning fury through his markings. He opened his eyes and stared into the face of Danarius.
"Enough running, my pet," he hissed. "Time to serve your master again." He squeezed even harder. Fenris gasped for air, without success. Danarius' erection pressed against his stomach. He fought to get loose, fought to breathe, but Danarius's grip was as steel. Fenris heard him laugh while his vision blurred. He reached for his sword, but when he raised it he saw he was only holding a large feather. Danarius laughed harder.
I am not your pet anymore! With a final effort, he took over control of his markings and activated them. He dropped the feather and reached with his hand into Danarius' chest. His former master's eyes widened while Fenris closed his fingers around his heart. He tore it out and threw it away. Danarius made a high-pitched noise, but when Fenris turned to look at him again, to see the light in his eyes dim, it was Hawke who was standing in front of him, eyes wide, mouth open. A hole in his chest. No! One tear rolled down Hawke's cheek. It had not even reached his beard yet when the life in his eyes dissolved. Blood ran in streams across his chest. Hawke's body fell over, and Fenris caught it. He collapsed to the ground with Hawke in his arms. He was immediately soaked with blood. "No!" he cried. "No! I will not allow it!"
He was woken up by his own cries.