Chapter 42- There's a fine line between love and hate.
A big shout out to my beta LostSpace for this chapter! I'm so lucky to have such an amazing beta.
And as always, you guys that review/read/follow/favourite my story. I genuinely love reading your feedback and if you guys have anything you'd like to see -literally anything, if I'm in a creative mood I honestly don't mind- please let me know!
Love,
Lunaaa.
X
Fenris slung his great sword down forcefully causing a tsunami of dust to erupt from the dirty floorboards of his bedroom. He did not bother removing his armour instead he quickly grabbed one of the bottles of alcohol the dwarf had given him. The sight of Hawke so openly touching another man and the grime of the demon's voice still lingered on his skin. Yet the demon had made him look at Hawke closer than he ever had before and he realised she was not the enigma he had thought she was.
He thumbed the bottle of wine for a moment then tore it open angrily, gulping down the alcohol as if he was a man dying of thirst. He thought that he would only ever need alcohol to wipe away the smears that Danarius had left on him; he had thought after his escape he would never be a victim to blood magic again. And yet the demon's presence lingered in his bones. There were some things alcohol could never wash away.
He had always thought of himself as strong when it came to the manipulation of magic. He had thought he had seen everything that magic had to offer and yet the demon had caught him in its web easily. The damning confirmation that he was just as weak as the other members of their party –barring Hawke- hit him hard. He had not ever considered that a demon could push him so easily over the edge and even now its whispers tormented his mind. He tried to control his rage at his own weakness. It angered him that Hawke and the abomination resisted the demon's offers so easily whereas he and the chantry brother had fallen quickly to it's grimey words.
He could not afford to let himself become weak, weakness would mean his freedom would become a distant memory and he would be tied down by Danarius once again. And yet the demon's words rang through his body, flashing images of Hawke and her prince in his mind.
He finished his first bottle and quickly grabbed the second; he hoped it would numb the ache in his chest. His temper wavered the more he thought about Hawke and Sebastian. She had made her choice when she ran after the chantry brother. She had made her intentions clear and the demon had confirmed it when she announced Sebastian's wants. He needed a princess and Hawke was a noble.
What a perfect match.
He wanted to stop thinking of Hawke in such a bitter way but he found the more he thought of her the more his anger rose. Hawke was like Isabela, except Hawke's brain overpowered her loins. The effects of the second bottle quickly kicked in and Fenris slumped himself in the chair, bitterness overwhelming him as it often did. The demon seemed to be taunting him even in its posthumous state, still driving it's thoughts into his mind.
He grabbed another, hoping the images of Sebastian and Hawke would leave his mind. She had everything she wanted now. They had helped her gain her noble status and she had found herself a prince whilst they waited in the slums. She did not have to admit it; her openness to his touch was all the explanation Fenris needed.
The loud bang of the front door opening forewarned him of another's arrival but he was far too sluggish to move. If it was Danarius he would be able to take him there and then, the alcohol had taken away his desire to fight back. He stood up and walked towards his sword, but the intruder had already made their way to his bedroom door.
"What the fuck was that all about?" Hawke asked as she walked towards him, her voice furious and commanding.
He retreated back to his chair, the buzz of the alcohol still humming in his brain. Her voice seemed louder than he had ever heard it and echoed in his mind.
"Don't fucking make me repeat myself, Fenris. What was all that about?" Hawke demanded, walking towards him in the darkness.
He could hear her grinding her teeth in frustration and with what sounded like a whip cracking, the fireplace suddenly became ablaze and Hawke walked towards him. She pulled down her hood and he looked at her for a moment in fear, he waited to be punished for his ignorance.
"Fenris?" she asked, her intense green eyes glowing in the anger of the roaring fire.
"Hawke," he replied, thumbing the half empty bottle of wine.
"I demand an explanation Fenris," Hawke spat, the magic crackling in her body. He could feel the lyrium in her veins, vibrating in every part of her.
"You are not my master," he spat, taking a gulp of the wine.
"I never said I was, but I am your friend," Hawke replied, her voice controlled as if she was minding her temper.
"Is that what you seek? Friendship? Not a means to an end? You have your Hightown mansion, you have your prince, you do not have to pretend any longer, Hawke," he replied, stroking the body of the bottle and avoiding her gaze.
"Why do you keep saying my prince? What are you talking about?" Hawke asked, confused.
Lies, lies… All she does is lie to get what she wants…
"You are like Isabela! You use your assets to will them in, but you never give too much! You are a siren! You enjoy playing games! How is that you would not even accept another touching you apart from your brother and now all of a sudden when royalty wishes to touch you, you are free and able?! I tire of your games, mage! Now leave!" he roared, standing up and launching the bottle of wine at the wall, soaking the stone in blood red liquid. The small amount of self-control that he had left was slowly falling out of his hands like sand.
Hawke stood still with wide eyes for a moment. She seemed speechless by his outburst and his confrontation and for a moment looked at him in shock.
"I am not playing games with you or anyone. It is easier to let Sebastian touch me because he has taken a vow of chastity, he is a chantry brother…" she started, but his temper flared at her words.
"More games! Of course it is different! Your excuses are pathetic!" he snapped, turning to face the fire.
Hawke was just another weakness that could be easily exploited.
"How fucking dare you! You know nothing of my life or the things that have happened to me!" Hawke shouted. He could feel the magic thrumming in her hands, ready to unleash at any moment.
"I suppose it has been hard for you, mage! Whilst I was a slave being tortured you sat in the farmlands with your daisy chains and your loving family! You always play the victim but I have realised tonight it is just another game! That is what we are, are we not? Games!" he replied angrily, facing her in his defiance.
Hawke's eyes set alight at his words as if they emitted their own form of light.
"Narrow minded bastard! You won't even let me explain! You don't even know!" she screamed.
"And after tonight I have decided I do not want to!" he roared back, his rage colouring any other feeling as he looked at Hawke's staggered face. He ignored the hurt in her eyes; she would soon run to her prince or the abomination or whatever man she could play with. He was a fool, a fool to think a slave like him could ever receive anything but manipulation from a mage like her.
"I thought you felt the same," she said, her voice almost inaudible, his sensitive ears only just picking up her quiet words.
"Obviously I do not. Leave before I make you myself," he spat, his rage taking hold of his entire being. He could not stop himself; he did not want to.
"I am not leaving until I can explain! I sent you a letter, I wrote it down for you!" Hawke replied.
"Of course you did, now leave Hawke," he begged, his temper bubbling and making him feel more like a beast than a man. He could feel the demon's grime still lingered on his skin, he needed to bathe and scour every inch of his skin, he needed to get away- to run.
"No."
Fenris' self-control shattered. He roared his defiance and his brands lit as he howled in temper. He charged towards her, his hands balling into fists as his rage took control of his entire being. But Hawke was ready for his attack and as soon as he got close she slipped into the darkness, causing him to fumble as he grasped thin air. He sensed her as she tried to sneak towards him, hoping to tackle him from behind, and turned just in time. He threw her to the wall with a deafening crack. Without thinking he ran towards her, ready to throw her out of his home and his life, but she knew him too well and before he could even consider grabbing for his great sword he felt a wave of magic hurtling towards him and was sent flying back to the wall parallel to Hawke. His vision blurred for a moment but the pain fuelled his anger. Hawke leant against the wall for a moment, obviously dazed from her use of magic and he took his chance. He charged towards her with an incensed howl and threw her to the floor.
He collapsed on top of her and they stared at each other for a moment, green eyes meeting green. The lyrium that was once burning in rage seemed to dim and he examined her enraged facial features for a moment. His eyes flickered to the fresh wound on her head, -similar to his own- and then to her eyes before they rested on her lips that were mashed together in anger.
Not even considering the consequences of his actions, he smashed his lips down on hers. Hawke responded to his touch automatically and their lips fought one another's, rebelling against their own anger. The heat of her kisses scorched his throat and the burn spread to every part of his body, coursing in his loins and he felt his groin tighten in anticipation. The need for Hawke was almost painful as he forced hot kisses on her and she answered them all back in kind. He groaned at the taste of her lips, she tasted of blood and wine; better yet she tasted of freedom. Hawke forced her lips on his harder, moaning slightly as she did so. He growled in satisfaction, trying to hold onto what little control he had.
He stopped before he could do something he regretted.
He gazed at her dizzily for a moment, viewing her expression with bated breath. Her expression mirrored his own, her breathing still heavy as she looked up at him. After a few moments he regained his composure and stood up, frozen to the spot as the reality of what just happened hit him fast.
Hawke stood up and adjusted her cloak, viewing him with silence and her eyes still burning with desire.
She looked at him and the door and his stomach dropped at the thought of her leaving now.
"You can't read can you?" she asked quietly, her lips swollen and red as she spoke. He looked at them hungrily as he tried to process Hawke's words.
He looked at her in confusion, dumbfounded by the casual question after what had just happened. He tried to quell the shock and alcohol that sloshed in his stomach but his attempt to reign in his emotions seemed impossible, it was as if he was scrambling at her words. The tightness in his trousers seemed to burn longingly as he looked at the distance between himself and Hawke, he wanted to take her back, to claim her. To tell her how he felt.
He had to tell her.
But his mind was far too foggy, an hour ago he was charging into this room with feelings of hatred towards Hawke, now he was staring at her with lust and other wanton desires. How did the woman do these things?
"Fenris, stop staring at me in that way and answer the fucking question," Hawke added, glaring at him but with a small smile on her lips.
"I-uh," was all he could add to the conversation. He felt almost joyful –most likely enhanced by the alcohol- that he had kissed Hawke. All these weeks, all the things he had witnessed and he had told himself she did not want him, she did this to all men who circled round her. She was a bird of prey. But he felt it, felt when their lips met that she wanted it too, he could not deny it.
"I have to go, I have some business I need to attend to and my mother is back tomorrow evening," she explained.
"I see," he attempted to say more, but his mind and heart were running a thousand miles ahead of him. It was as if his intellect had been depleted in kisses.
"I'll come back tomorrow evening," she added and he nodded his reply, words failing him at the prospect of Hawke returning.
"And we can talk about what just happened," she said slowly, looking at him as if he had come down with an illness. He nodded again, she was right but he could not explain whatever it was that rushed through his head at that moment. He wanted to ask her if that had just really happened, but he knew the annoyance of being questioned. Whatever it was, he enjoyed it and overcomplicating it would just ruin whatever was beginning.
He wanted to be happy, just for once.
She started walking towards the bedroom door but paused to pull her hood over her face.
"And I'm teaching you to read."