Chapter Twenty - Fenris

So, guys twenty chapters! A huge thanks to my amazing beta as always, Enchantm3nt, thank you for sticking by me for so long!

I will be closing up act one within the next few chapters, but I had to throw in some Merril/Carver, I think I prefer a sweeter Carver rather than the arrogant one we got in the game!

Thank you for your follows and your reviews! You guys have been so awesome!

A small red-headed girl ran through a cobblestoned courtyard, laughing as she cried out a name. He was not sure exactly where he was, only that it felt familiar; it felt like… home.

"Leto!" the girl laughed, stretching her arms out towards him from the other end of the yard.

He started running toward her, but the harder he ran the farther away she seemed.

"LETO!" she screamed, this time more anxious than her last shout.

"LETO!"

Fenris woke, startled, trying to recall the dream he had just had; the more he seemed to concentrate on memorising every detail the quicker it seemed to fade away like holding water in bare hands. He sat up, rubbing his aching back as he did so; yesterday he had gone along to one of Hawke's endeavours and had been wounded so badly that the abomination had been forced to heal him. Forced was indeed the correct verb for the action as Fenris recalled the hazy memory of Hawke shouting at the male mage as he looked at Fenris as if contemplating what to do.

Fenris, of course, felt disgusted that the abomination had used his magic to heal him; he had promised himself that no mage would use their craft upon him again, within reason, and yet he had found himself at the mercy of another mage. And yet he knew without the abomination he would surely be dead, although he had no doubt in his mind that the abomination did it to gain Hawke's affection and if he wasn't lusting after their fearless leader he would have had no intention on tending to Fenris' wound.

Their mission had been completed, thankfully, without any of them dead or worse. The Winters had been taken care of and the Viscount's son dropped safely off home after being extremely thankful to Hawke for stopping the Winters. It was part of Hawke's mask that made her so frighteningly charming; no one could really see what was underneath her sarcastic disposition.

Fenris was beginning to scratch the surface with Hawke, thanks to the amount of time he spent with her. Where others found her to be full of wit and charm, Fenris knew that it was nothing more than a clever ruse. Of course, Hawke was a smart woman and her wit was her from her own mind but none of the others could see how closely she used that wit to defend her heart. She had also not displayed a single bout of magic ever since the night he had met her, and that had been six weeks ago today. He did not know whether to be surprised or to just laugh at the irony of the past six weeks.

He was not sure why he decided to stay that night; he could blame it on drunken tomfoolery and pretend it wasn't the mere image of the white haired woman standing before him, her eyes wide as the moonlight shone on her pale skin. In that moment the sight of Hawke had looked somewhat poetic, as if she was a beacon of hope for him. Fenris had little time for such things, but in his drunken haze he saw her in that way for a moment.

But after that, the fire that had burnt so desperately in the pit of his stomach had died. She had not approached him in any sort of flirtatious manner since that night, yet he had found a release in arguing with her. Hawke was a strong woman, and excellent in a debate.

He stretched his arms out in an attempt to rid himself of the grogginess that his injury and sleep had bestowed on him and climbed out of the bed, after neatening the covers, he strolled to the basin to wash himself. He looked at his reflection in the dusty mirror, making expressions as he did so. He did not know how old he was, but he could guess it was about Hawke's age, maybe a bit more. Age didn't really seem to bother Fenris as much as it should, it barely seemed like time had passed to him. He had spent every second of the day with Danarius when he was birthed from his new life and knew nothing of what came before. In a way, he thanked Danarius for that, he knew that if he could remember having a family then he surely would have died trying to save them as well as himself.

He did not give his dirty former master much gratitude however, for if were not for the greedy bastard's sickening desire to create someone like Fenris, then maybe Fenris would be happier. Oh yes, he probably would have still been a slave but at least he would not have to be so alone. Whatever came before Danarius, he felt that he had someone who once loved him. He walked away from the basin, trying not to dwell on bitter thoughts as he dressed for the day.

He opened the curtains to see the midday sun blazing in the late morning. It was odd… to say the least that Hawke had not turned up and dragged him out of bed to come along to whatever job she had rustled up for the day. He had spent many weeks at Hawke's side and hated to admit that he had grown to respect and value Hawke's friendship. As much as he had tried to shun her away at the beginning he found that Hawke's morals and her beliefs were as strong as iron and even though her view on mages seemed to be a lot beseeching than his, he found he looked at her in admiration. She had stood in front of the Knight Captain of the order that condemned her kinds and looked at him not in fear, -as Fenris had seen many mages in Kirkwall did when they cast their eyes on the renowned Templar- but with a ferocity that Fenris had no doubt would cause the Maker to back down. She had seen her storm through gangs of bandits, thugs and whatever else plagued the streets. She was a tsunami, and her popularity had begun to increase more and more each day.

And yet, even though he stood beside her and fought amongst her he doubted his every thought around her. She was a walking contradiction, and Fenris found that many things that contradicted their selves did not mix correctly together. And however much Hawke clung to the shadows as if she were a babe and they were her mother's arms, Danarius would pull her out into the spotlight and know her for what she was. He would be disgusted by the sight of her, mages that denied their heritage and power wereas good as slaves. If the worst were to happen, Fenris would have his hands stained with blood once again.

He had spent many a night deep in thought of the possibilities of what could happen and even he knew that beyond his rage and hatred for his former master, he was still collared. This hold that Danarius had on him was tight, and he truly didn't know if he could overcome it to rid himself of the one that held his leash. He wanted to feel free, he wanted to be free but until the day came when he would run no more he would not class himself as free.

He looked around the desolated bedroom and for the first time in ages found himself at a loss as to what to do for the day. It was strange that Hawke had not already called on him and asked for his help, he found himself surprised that he had some free time. He had already cleaned around his bedroom so it was in a somewhat tidy state.

Fenris pondered for a moment what he would do, and decided that he would go see the dwarf after picking up something to eat, of course. In the past few weeks Fenris had been trying new delicacies with the money Hawke had paid him. He had tried Ferelden cheeses and wines, studied taffy and liquorice and even begrudgingly paid a sovereign for chocolate since Hawke had given it high praise and found like most things, Hawke was right.

He began his travels through Hightown to the Hanged Man, where Varric permanently lodged. Fenris had a feeling that the dwarf had enough gold to own a mansion in Hightown but secretly enjoyed living in one of the most central social hubs of the city. Varric liked to keep his ears to the ground and he was certainly short enough. As Fenris passed stalls full of luxurious items that were befit of the nobles of Hightown he heard the familiar voice of Carver Hawke drifting from the masses of people doing their daily shopping.

"Just stay with me, I won't let you get lost, I promise," his voice simmered through the crowds and for a moment Fenris thought he was talking to his older sibling. He didn't want to admit it but he found it unsettling that he had not seen Hawke today and wondered where she was off to. Fenris wasn't sure if he should go say hello to the two siblings or if he would look like he had purposefully sought them out. He shifted through the crowd nonetheless, his body taking over before his mind could object. He found Carver Hawke walking through the crowds with great ease, but the woman on his arm was not Hawke.

It was the blood mage.

She clung to Carver in an almost childish manner as if he was the only thing keeping her safe amongst the crowds; they were extremely close as they walked through the markets, viewing the stalls as they walked by. Her hand was touching his bicep and his arm was around her waist in a nonchalant manner. If Fenris didn't know them he would have just thought that they were a poor couple coming to view the pretty things that they could not afford. He frowned at himself for even thinking that Carver would ever have to reassure his boisterous overconfident sister about getting lost.

"Oooh Carver, look at that bangle! Isn't it shiny! It's like those that Isabela wears!" the blood mage squealed, pointing to a specific item on one of the stalls they were close to.

"If you like, when I come back from the Deep Roads I'll buy you it, Merril," Carver replied, turning to look at her face with a huge smile on his. Fenris almost vomited at the mere sight of the young man's attempts to court the blood mage. He should know better than this, he had been raised around mages and should know the risks more than most. And yet he followed her around with his love-struck eyes as if she was royalty, not a blood mage that spoke to a demon on a regular occurrence.

"Ooooh no! Please don't, Carver, it costs far too much!" Merril argued, walking away from the stall and dragging him with her with great ease. It didn't really surprise Fenris, he didn't doubt that all Merril had to do was point which cliff to jump off and Carver would do it without questions.

"Come on, let's just get some chocolate and we can have our picnic," Carver said, turning his head in Fenris' direction almost as if he could sense that he was nearby. Without even thinking, Fenris hid behind one of the closer stalls, pretending to view some of the robes that were on sale. He did not know why he had decided to hide. It was not as if he intentionally followed them…

And that was when it hit him. He realised why Hawke wasn't going about her daily business. He scanned the shadows in search for her and found her hiding behind the columns a few yards away from where her brother and the blood mage were.

He almost laughed at the sight of her, he had to admit when she wanted to be hidden she did it well but he had many years' experience in finding things that did not want to be found, it was after all his job to guard his former master with his life and a job he had until recently taken seriously. He watched in amusement as Hawke trailed after her brother, it shocked Fenris to see that there was some sense of normality in Hawke's persona, where most knew her as the cut throat rogue who got jobs done Fenris was witnessing her as Aria Hawke, nosy older sister.

He decided he would cut her off before she ruined whatever the blood mage and her brother had intended to do for the day without her. Of course, he thought it would be rather amusing to see the blood mage squirm under Hawke's gaze but he knew that nothing ill would truly come out of it as Hawke just like her younger sibling was naïve enough to believe that the mage was harmless, at most he felt that it would just make an increased awkwardness within the group. But he did want to confront her about what she was doing, Hawke and her brother fought tooth and nail about him coming with her on every job. They were constantly together and it was rare that days such as this came across, Fenris didn't truly know why the younger sibling had taken to protecting his sister- she was a worthy opponent in battle and could handle herself- and he didn't and yet he had an inkling it was something to do with why she did not want to be touched. She always spoke about her need for space and yet here she was following her brother as he tried to advance his friendship with the blood mage to the relationship area! Fenris was no genius when it came to matters of the heart, quite frankly he thought he lacked one but he knew that Carver would have to get a move on with his courtship of the blood mage, before she began a relationship with the demons who whispered to her.

He copied Hawke's pace and watched her steer off into the alley, she had obviously not even noticed he was there as she was too enraptured in watching her brother try to court the blood mage. He found his moment to intervene and quickly followed her down the alley.

"Hawke!" he shouted, making her freeze. She turned around in one swift fluid like motion and glared at him.

"Fenris, how lovely to see you here. Were you following me?" she asked, feigning formality as she always did, in fact she did it so often Fenris classed it as one of her many traits.

"How ironic Hawke, that you accuse me of such things when you are obviously borderline obsessive with your younger brother's personal life," Fenris countered, used to the little dance that they did with each other.

"What? Carver was there, sweet Maker I must have become lost in my thoughts…maybe I'm becoming broodier than you!" she quipped back.

She seemed exhausted, with bags under her eyes that looked almost bruised on her pale skin that normally had a pearlescent shine to it but was almost a milky grey. Her eyes however, contradicted her entire face and were as always a bright green, it seemed fitting Fenris thought to himself as he looked into her eyes, that she contradicted herself even with her fatigue.

"Hawke, you may not wish to explain yourself to me but I am sure your brother may see himself as one worthy of an explanation," Fenris said, knowing that the mentioning of telling Carver anything to do with what had just happened was either his best bet of getting to know another thing about her or for her to hit him so hard in his manhood that he wouldn't be able to feel them until feast day.

Her glare narrowed at his words, but her mouth flicked upwards into a small mischievous grin. Hawke's grin was something he knew was not to be questioned; it normally meant that a fight would begin sooner rather than later.

She sighed, and rubbed her temples for a moment before continuing to glare at him. The situation would have been almost funny, if he did not fear for the safety of his male reproductive parts.

"Before you even start with the high and mighty attitude Fenris, I didn't mean to follow him, I needed to speak to Aveline in the keep and then I saw him and Merrill…" she cut off, wrinkling her nose as she tried to explain her intentions. In the past six weeks he had noticed that whenever Hawke was uncomfortable she would wrinkle her nose madly as if whatever thought that lurked in her brain could be sneezed out. The abomination had commented on it saying he thought it was endearing and a small part of him had agreed with him, until he saw how furious it had made Hawke and decided that he liked his innards where they were.

"As always Hawke, I shall do my best to not offend you with my manner, and you could have evaded the crowds easily," Fenris replied, his voice dripping in sarcasm. He knew the only way to talk to Hawke was through blood, gold or sarcasm.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit you know," she replied, looking at him almost impishly with tired green eyes.

"This explains why you and the dwarf use it so much," Fenris countered, a grin on his face at his accomplishment.

"Not really, we use all manners of wit therefore making the fact that we use sarcasm moot, we're just using our tools, however you only stick to sarcasm and never expand your wit therefore you are an idiot and me and Varric are geniuses," she lectured almost, arguing her point and making Fenris' eyebrows mash together in annoyance that she had actually found a way to argue back.

"Faasta Vas, you will argue until you are old and withered and even then you would argue with a tree if it grew the wrong way," he cursed, trying to fight back the smile that was spreading on his face.

"Yes, but I am lovable so that's all that really matters," she chimed, flicking her hair back and winking in an almost feminine fashion; the smile on his face burst before he could stop himself. One of Hawke's rare gifts was that she could indeed make anyone smile, himself included, it seemed.

"As you say, Hawke,"

"It's my Father's birthday today," she gushed out, she spoke so quickly Fenris could only just pick it up with his sensitive elf ears. He could see how uncomfortable it had made her just by telling him, all of her bravado had been completely erased and what replaced it was this shy woman who was staring at the floor so furiously Fenris thought it may crack and swallow the both of them whole.

"I see, and is that the reason you wished to speak to Aveline?" Fenris asked, curious as always when it came to Hawke.

"No, that was about another matter entirely, I wanted to ask for assistance tomorrow with Javaris and the Arishok, I thought maybe a symbol of authority may diffuse the situation," she said, her tone becoming business like and making Fenris almost want to curse at the fact she was beginning to close herself up once again. He felt that he and Hawke were becoming friends, she had earned his respect to say the least for now and provided him with money and warm food and wine in his stomach; such liberties he had not tasted until now.

"I see, I wondered why you had not called on me today, Hawke, since you have been doing nearly every day for the past few weeks, I have to admit it was… unsettling that I had nothing to do today," Fenris admitted out loud. It was the truth, he had found it odd to not be following her or listening to her and Varric and whatever mischief or argument they were engaging with. Varric came with most of the time, everywhere she went. Fenris felt a pang in his stomach as he thought of Varric, but could define what the pang signified. His body was trying to explain something to him what he couldn't understand.

There was a silence for a moment, and Hawke fiddled with her belt and played with the strings of her coin pouch. He watched her, and realised this was the first time he had truly seen Hawke look awkward and somewhat timid…

"I try not to remember how delusional he got at the end," she said, but it was as if she wasn't really talking to him, more like recalling a bad dream that had haunted her from years ago. He didn't know what to say, in all honesty he was more shocked that in one sentence Hawke had told him more than anyone else apart from her family had ever knew about her. It irked him somewhat that she had chosen to share this information with him, like somewhere along the line of working together they had become close friends and he hadn't even realised it.

"Your father was a mage, was he not?" Fenris asked, in genuine curiosity rather than fuelled malice.

"Yes, why do you ask? Glad that there's less of us out there?" she spat back, and he almost cursed at himself for not realising that she would not receive his question so kindly.

"No, if they were anything like you, then I doubt that I would hate them as much as I hate others of your kind," he said, honesty reigning in his voice. And it was true, in all his years he had seen the disgusting things that mages would do to climb up the ladder. He could still see the blood on his hands even now and he had been free for quite some time.

She nodded at his reply, and the two shared an awkward moment of silence. Fenris' body and mind seemed like they were two different things when he was around Hawke. His mind warned him of what she was and could become, where his body buzzed almost excitedly in a way he just could not understand. It seemed that Hawke had this effect on most, whatever it was.

"I just seem to be the only one that remembers his birthday now," she almost whispered, her eyes wide with shock as if was horrifying that she was speaking to him about her feelings.

"I doubt they would have forgotten, Hawke, merely that they are just moving on," he replied, trying to be diplomatic about the situation, he was useless at giving advice.

"If only it were that easy. Thank you, Fenris, for speaking with me, I don't have to warn you what I will do to you if you tell anyone of what you saw today, I think you already get the gist of what I can do," she said, her tone resigning back to its usual witty self.

"Anytime, Hawke, may I ask you a question? You need not reply if it is something you do not wish to speak about," he said, wondering why Hawke's father's death that was many years ago had taken such a hold on her life and being. Everything about Hawke screamed that she was stuck in the past and not ready to let go, and what Carver had told the group about Bethany's death it seemed to fan the flames of Hawke's anger at whatever the world had done.

"Ask away," she said, shooting him her best dazzling smile and making his stomach flip for a moment. Sometimes he wondered if she did it on purpose, and in some other life Hawke was the incarnation of a siren, ready to drown men with her voice alone.

"How did your father pass away?" he said, jumbling his words quickly as if he was scared to say them or even hurt her feelings, however curious he may be about them.

Her face darkened as if a shadow had covered her entire face in the middle of the day. Her eyes became slits and her jaw clenched to neutralise whatever emotion she felt. . He could see her tightening her body up as if she was recoiling from him and the question he asked.

"He was murdered."