A/N: This starts after Fenris' and Hawke's one night stand in ACT II. Hurt by Fenris' abandonment, Hawke takes comfort in Anders' embrace; Fenris is jealous, but remains detached, the only indication of his affections barely evident in his arguments with the abomination. After some time, the elf begins to realize he isn't capable of letting Hawke move on and is unwilling to give up – he will do anything to win her back from Anders, but nothing is ever easy, is it?
Fem!Mage!Hawke/Anders/Fenris love triangle ensues.
This idea originated from one of my playthroughs where I did exactly this; Fenris has one moment where he even acknowledges Hawke/Anders and never brings it up again, not even in Act III. I wanted to build on that and this is fic is the result.
Disclaimer: Bioware owns anything Dragon Age…and my soul. :D
"I'm sorry. I feel like such a fool." He sighed, eyes downcast to the floor. She tried to think of something, anything, to say – he was regretting what they had done, she could see it in the way his body was angled away from her, toward the door.
"But…you came to me, you started this!" It felt like such a stupid thing to say, but she was hurting, feeling the dread of knowing he'd used her settle over her like heavy chainmail.
"This…this never should have happened." And then she found herself staring at his back as he retreated, leaving quietly through the door. She listened as the door to the mansion opened and shut, signaling his departure from her home, from her. Hawke took a deep breath; he felt like a fool? No – she was the fool. She had trusted him despite his hatred for her kind and now she sat in her smalls, staring at the door and listening to her mental mantra that begged him to return.
Her gaze never strayed from the wood of the door. How long she stared at it, she wasn't certain; when she drew her eyes away, finally, she found that the sun had risen and light was filtering through the drapes. Had she really watched the door all night? No – he wasn't the fool, she was.
Hawke should have been on her way to the Hanged Man. Her and her companions would meet there and discuss matters that demanded their attention. Varric had said something the day before about having found Bartrand; they had agreed to go tonight to see if there was any truth to the rumor, but that had been before Fenris had shown up at her home. Seeing the others, and quite possibly Fenris, did not appeal to her right now. Feeling strangely disheartened and numb, she found herself walking the familiar path to Anders' clinic in the undercity.
The doors were open, as they always were. As a healer, Anders never turned away a patient, coin or no. The thought made her smile; he was a troubled man, but was good at heart, she knew that. She was one of the only ones who could. Others, like Fenris, would condemn him without so much as a second thought – not that she couldn't understand the why. Anders was as dangerous as he was caring. There was no doubt about that. It was one reason she had kept her distance. Yet, after what Fenris had done, all she wanted was to be in his company; as a healer, maybe he could make the pain of Fenris' betrayal fade away.
Hawke set her staff against the wall beside the door, brushing her dark hair back from her eyes as they sought out her friend. He was talking to an elven woman, a caring smile gracing his gentle face. A child was clutching at the woman's leg as she spoke with Anders. Hawke kept her distance as they finished their business, Anders passing a pouch of what she knew to be herbs to the elf – those pointed ears, they made her think of Fenris. Her chest tightened and ached, nearly unmercifully. She didn't notice they had left until Anders was standing in front of her, addressing her to get her attention.
"Hawke, it's good to see you. What brings you by?"
The question was a valid one, but she wasn't certain how to answer – why had she come? "Nothing…" she mumbled lamely. "Just wanted some company." She nearly blushed with embarrassment when he chuckled.
"I would be a fool to turn away your company." He smiled, something she found she liked. He looked younger when he smiled. In that moment, she decided she needed to make him smile more often. He moved past her, grabbing a bowl up from a crate and moving to set it just outside the clinic doors. She watched, curious.
"What are you doing?" She finally asked, walking toward him. She leaned down, looking over his shoulder curiously; was that milk? He had mentioned something about a cat once, but he had also said he'd been ordered to get rid of it.
"Putting out milk," he said as he pushed himself up from where he knelt. A soft sigh followed. "I miss having a cat around, but I think the refugees have scared them all off." He turned to face her, a disgusted expression showing on his features. "Or…maybe eaten them."
"Yuck," she mumbled as she shuddered. That thought was unwelcome. It was like trying to picture herself eating her Mabari hound, who was like a member of her family. Again…unwelcome.
He nodded, his mind seeming to wander elsewhere for a moment. The blonde moved past her, before coming back to stand just in front of her. "You know," he started, almost hesitantly, "I have been meaning to thank you. Having someone like you make a name for yourself in Kirkwall…it's done a lot for mages, Hawke. You are the kind of leader we need, to tell the world we won't be punished any longer for our Maker given gifts."
His words were nice, but they made her frown inwardly; why did they make her think of Fenris? Was it always going to be like this – every little thing reminding her of the elf and what he had done? "Politics aside, Anders, I don't want to see the Templars lock you up." It was true enough. She cared for him, in some form or another, she knew. In this instant, she wanted something, anything, to help her forget last night.
Anders frowned, looked away for a moment, and then sighed as he returned his amber gaze to her pale blue one. "I have been trying to hold back…you almost saw what I did to that girl. You…you have seen what I am. Really am. But Hawke…I am still a man. You can't tease me like this…I won't be able to resist forever." She frowned at his words. Had she teased him? She couldn't recall.
Her heart took a traitorous turn, beginning an increased, rapid pace within her breast. Her palms were sweaty and she curled her fingers, only to uncurl them almost immediately. Fenris. No, NO. She wasn't going to allow herself to think of him. He used her. He left her. He didn't care for her. Anders did. She knew he did. She could see it in his eyes, in his features, in the sad way he was looking at her.
"I…will I drive you mad?" She asked, almost daringly; Maker, what was wrong with her?
Before she knew it, his hand came up and slid into her hair, cupping her head and bringing her toward him. He kissed her, passionately, her lips parting in a surprised gasp that he took advantage of. Her hands curled in his coat and held on desperately as he made it nearly impossible to think; she was thankful for that, her mind blissfully blank as he drowned her in pleasant sensations. He pulled away, only slightly, gazing down at her, before stealing one more kiss – a light touch, though still passionate, melding their lips together. Was she foolish for not pushing him away?
"This will be a disaster," he sighed, though his lips belied his words as they turned up into a gentle smile. "But I cannot live without it. We could die tomorrow and…I don't want it to be before I tell you how I feel."
She trembled and sucked in a breath. "Is it in verse?" Maker, now she had turned to jokes again?
His features fell and she worried it was because of her words. He looked agonized. Like someone had just killed his cat. "I thought with Justice…I thought this part of me was over. I can't give you a normal life, Hawke. If you're with me…" he trailed off, gazing away. "We'll be hunted. The whole world will be against us." He sighed, turning back to look at her, cupping her face gently with his calloused hand. "If your door is open tonight, I will come to you. If not…I'll know you took my warning at last." He dropped his hand and stepped away from her. Turned away from her. Her chest clenched and she suddenly found herself staring at Fenris' back as he left her room.
No, please. Stay. Don't turn away from me.
Before she knew what she was doing, she caught his arm. He turned toward her, arching a dark brow. "Hawke?" His voice jolted her, bringing her back to reality.
"I'm sorry," she dropped his arm almost frantically, before she turned and bolted from the clinic.
Hawke had stopped by the Hanged Man, given her apologies to Varric, before she fled for home; she didn't want to help anyone today. Not even her friends. She wanted someone to help her. How long could they abuse her and expect her to solve everything without breaking down? She wasn't invincible. She was human, like the rest of them; she had feelings, thoughts, wants, and needs.
Once she was home, she locked herself in her room and lay on her bed, arms wrapped around a pillow she hugged to her chest. How could she have allowed any of this to happen? First Fenris, now Anders. To the Void, how had it all gotten so messed up? She had never intended to let Fenris into her bed, much less her heart, but in their heated argument, somehow it had happened. And when he had left, he'd taken her heart with him. Not that he cared.
Anders…Anders loved her. She knew that. But she knew what getting involved with him meant. He was rebellious against the circle, the chantry, the Templars. Like Bethany, Hawke had always just kept her head down and kept out of sight – she didn't instigate, not like Anders was known to. Could she allow him into her life, knowing who he was? He had nearly killed a mage they had saved from Templars – would he turn on her too in a rage; would Justice turn Anders against her, if he saw her as a threat?
Hawke sighed and pushed her nose against the soft material of her pillow. Maker…it still smelled like him; sweat and leather, mixed with some unique herb she couldn't identify.
He pressed her down, lips caressing hers in a brutal caress. His kiss was hard and almost punishing. She cried out as he thrust himself inside of her, invading her in the most intimate way. Her sheath clutched at him, body trembling as his hand palmed her breast, fingers twisting a delicate peak. "Hawke," he moaned her name as he pulled his length from her, only to thrust it back, spearing her deeply. Again and again, the pace he set was nearly animalistic. Growls against her ear had her nearly coming right there on the spot, but he refused, stopping to let her calm, before building her up again. It was like some twisted form of torture.
"Fenris, please!" She gasped after what felt like hours, their bodies covered in perspiration. He grunted, nipping her lip before he thrust hard, flesh slapping against flesh. He didn't stop this time, pushing her over the edge; she nearly screamed, her back arching as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her. His hips jerked against hers and he groaned loud, his hot seed spilling deep.
He collapsed beside her, drawing her against his chest. She inhaled, taking in his scent, to hold with her; he smelled like leather, and sweat, and an herb she didn't know but would now always associate with him…
Tears rolled from her eyes and with a frustrated groan, she sat up and hurled the pillow into the fire. It caught fire easily enough and she watched it burn, her chest tight with suppressed sobs. She would not cry over him; he'd gotten what he wanted from her. It was done, over.
She should move on.
She stepped out from her room and moved to the banister. "Bodahn, Anders is coming by. Leave the door unlocked tonight."
Her heart was racing, but she desperately tried to keep herself calm as she stood at the end of her bed. Night had fallen hours ago, she realized as she folded her arms across her chest and gazed into the flickering oranges and yellows of the fire. He wasn't going to come, was he? She was such a fool. They all wanted one thing from her – was it too much for her to have hoped Anders would be different?
"Hawke," his voice startled her and she turned to look at him, her eyes cautious.
She swallowed thickly as tears threatened to spill from her eyes; he'd come, he'd actually come. He didn't leave her. Fenris was here. NO. It wasn't Fenris, it was Anders; forget about Fenris, she mentally screamed over and over. Anders loved her, Fenris did not.
"You came," she whispered as she unfolded her arms. "I wasn't sure you'd come."
He sucked in a breath, glanced away. "Are you sure you want me here?"
"Anders?" She trembled.
"I thought you and Fenris…" he turned back to look at her, his lips pressed into a frown. "Or did the beast finally turn on you?"
She frowned as her mind screamed at her to defend Fenris against Anders' words, but it was true, wasn't it? He had turned on her and bit her hand. He was a wolf she couldn't tame. Her eyes fell to the floor and she sighed. "He…he left. There is nothing more between us, Anders."
He came forward then, raising her gaze to his as he cupped her face with his hand. "I am sorry he hurt you." He frowned and shook his head. "But I cannot be sorry if he led you to me."
He kissed her then, and it was unlike earlier – soft and gentle, a slow exploration. She trembled and wrapped her arms around his neck, praying his kiss would wipe Fenris' from her mind. His arms wrapped around her and he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips to dance sensuously with her own. They started moving back and with a sigh, he tumbled them to the bed.
She woke with a start, her body covered in a sheen of sweat. Gone, he was gone. Where was he? She flung out an arm desperately and sighed with relief when it came against his warm body. He hadn't left her. It had all been a dream. A twisted nightmare given to her by the Fade's demons to use her desires against her.
Fenris had stayed. She leaned down and nuzzled his ear, his round ear; no, this wasn't Fenris. She jerked away as Anders stirred. She rolled out of the bed and slipped on her house clothes, pacing away with her arms wrapped around herself.
Hawke was disgusted with herself. She wasn't this kind of girl, who slept with one guy and then moved onto the next. Her pacing ceased beside the fire and she sighed, staring into it. Maybe this was for the best…Anders cared about her, would love her and, in time, she would forget Fenris and the pain he'd caused her.
It had been awkward, at least to Hawke, the first time she, Anders, and Fenris took on a job together. As they walked the Wounded Coast, she found it hard to breathe. Fenris never brought up their night together or, said nothing that indicated he knew of hers' and Anders' budding relationship. He was detached and cold as ever.
Nothing happened. No fights, no yelling, no arguing; it was as if nothing had happened and she had dreamt it all. Fenris really didn't care, did he?
Suddenly, she was angry. And the foes that met her magic were given no mercy. They rescued the apostate and Hawke seethed silently as they left the cave and began their trek back toward Kirkwall.
"You were an idiot to leave Hawke." It was said so casually, Hawke nearly tripped; Maker's breathe, what did Anders think he was doing!
Fenris scoffed. "And you were fast enough to replace me," the elf said, saying nothing else for a long moment as he stared at Hawke's back. As jealous and angry as he was, he couldn't blame her – he had left her, not the other way around.
"I love her; you can't even imagine what that is." Anders snapped back, clearly irritated.
This time Fenris growled, his lyrium brands alighting with his anger; Hawke turned slightly as she swallowed the lump suddenly in her throat. "Do not bear your heart to me, mage, unless you would see me rip it out." The threat was clear and silence fell over the group, Varric giving her a somewhat amused expression; blighted dwarf, this was not funny.
"That's enough," Hawke said after a long moment. "We have things to do."
Anders loved her, she had to remember that; as long as he loved her, she could forget Fenris' betrayal – more and more, he led her to believe he didn't care…so why should she?