Hello - welcome to my FenrisXF!Dovakiin crossover fic! Before anyone reads too far into this... this takes place in Skyrim after the 3rd act in DA2. It will be Fenris in Tamriel, a new world for him. Not exactly an AU. I will try to keep everything as accurate as possible, and will be referencing all appropriate wikis. NPCs that you see in Skyrim will be in here, like the Jarls and barkeeps and everything else. Enjoy!


Prologue


The ship heaved and lurched. Its hull groaned with the strain, the sails furled and whipped about in the howling wind. The rain was a terror - a wall of water so thick that Fenris could hardly see ten feet in front of him. It was cold too, and he felt frozen to the bone.

Why did I choose this? His thoughts screamed at him. He clutched the railing on the side of the ship, stomach roiling. Why did we all choose this?

Even Isabela's caramel skin was pale in fear. She loved being at sea, but not when the sea was trying to pull her down with it. Hawke was with her, a firm hand on her waist as he braced himself against the storm. As if that would do a thing.

Fenris retched, his fear ripping through him. He had only been on a boat a handful of times. Most of those times were with Danarius, on luxurious vessels with velvet seats in the cabin and spiced wine. The other time he had been crammed in with the cargo, barely scraping enough money together to get off Seheron and back to land, alone in all the world. No time he had ever been at sea had he experienced a storm like this, and even Isabela, who was weathered in this type of thing, was at a loss for what to do.

The storm had struck them suddenly from the north, and what had looked like threatening clouds had dumped buckets of hail on them at first before making the sea lurch and pitch, and then the rain came, and it was as frozen as the hail. It had happened just as they were sure they glimpsed land - to the south, some black line on the horizon. The tide worked against them, as did the wind, all of nature declaring war on their modest ship.

How long had they been at sea? He couldn't say. Months, he was sure. Their food supply was low. They had heard of land beyond, far in the north, and sailed off in pursuit of the pipe dream. Fenris knew better. But he'd rather die at sea than spend the next short years of his life on the run with Hawke. He was sick of running. They were still running, though, but no one would follow them out here.

They were lost. Completely, utterly, hopelessly lost. Fenris heaved over the railing as the ship bobbed dangerously, making him slam into the railing. It knocked the wind out of him and made him choke on his own vomit, only for a moment. He clutched the railing, and half-dared to crawl back in the cabin. But if the worst happened, if they capsized or hit something, the deck would be the safest place to be.

He was sure he heard a roar, but it was probably only the wind in his ears, the rain in his eyes, the cold in his bones and the ache in his muscles. It had gotten dark over the course of the storm, which had only gotten worse, and Fenris was sure he was hearing things. The roar was familiar, and he was sure it wasn't the weather. He had heard this kind of roar before. In the Deep Roads. In the Bone Pit.

Fenris looked around him, but saw little. Isabela and Hawke were clutching onto each other. The pirate queen was frightened and had surrendered to the ocean. Merrill was elsewhere, and he didn't exactly care, probably with Varric.

There was that roar again, and it sent a shiver up his curved spine. It sounded closer than before, frightening. He realized it wasn't the wind, wasn't the wind at all. Fenris lurched to his feet, hoping no massive waves would slam them, and he ran on the slippery deck to Hawke and Isabela.

"Do you hear it?" He had to shout in the storm, and Hawke nodded.

"That's not the storm," Isabela said, looking out at the storm around them, and seeing nothing. Fenris grabbed onto the wheel for support and the ship heaved to the side. Hawke cursed and then pointed behind Fenris.

He swiveled his head and saw as a great shadow in the darkness emerged, at the bow of the ship. It crashed onto the boat, massive claws ripping into the hull as it latched on to get balanced. The dragon threw its narrow head back on a long neck and screamed, its thin wings unfurling and then slamming onto the deck.

"Oh, shit on a stick," Isabela said, her voice hollow and terrified.

"We need Varric and Merril," Hawke shouted. The dragon, a white and gray beast with tall spikes on its back, spotted them with beady black eyes and roared.

It lurched onto the deck and tore a hole in, bigger than Fenris. He unsheathed his sword, fear splitting into him. Where had he come? What hell was this?

The dragon had no forearms, but his wings had claws on them, and he had a massive, barrel chest. A wave crashed into the ship, sending the deck nearly vertical. The dragon fell onto the deck, great claws tearing up huge chunks of wood. Hawke slipped, and in his fall knocked Fenris' legs out from beneath him. Fenris lost his grip on his sword and hit the railing on the side of the ship, and his world was all black.