In the second half of Nanowrimo this year I realized I didn’t have the energy to hold down five gigs and finish writing my complicated final arc for Devil’s Due, but I still wanted to finish Nanowrimo so I could get that discount on Scrivener (I like it! I think it’s really useful). So I turned to fluff instead, and since I’d recently restarted playing DA2 with yet another rendition of Reid (now with an actual family!) I needed to write some FenReid friendmance. It’s interesting because Fenris and Murlesson share a character archetype – emo angry OP escaped slave bishounen – so in this story Reid is quite different from some of his other iterations in order to better contrast Fenris. Also because Sarcastic!Hawke is great fun to play with.
Going to take a second here to complain about how rushed DA2 is. I love the characters, but they’re shallow as puddles; I like the visual design, but that’s the most egregiously recycled part (especially the maps, obviously); I like the story, but I don’t like how all the time I spent in it feels like an appetizer for another game. (I did acquire Inquisition, but Frostbite makes it look like garbage so I need to mod it up before playing. MEA looks better than DAI. : P ) It seemed every five minutes I would notice something that wasn’t quite polished about this game. The only thing that is absolutely top-notch is the voice acting: the characters may only have one note each, but their voices play that note beautifully.
So this is all pretty messy writing by my standards, and I don’t care, it’s for the fluffy fluff and the feels. Some headcanons and character build: Reid’s autoattack spells in this story aren’t determined by his staff, but by what he learned to control personally (so he only ever uses lightning as an auto, not fire or force or whatever); he has some of the Primal tree, all of the Entropy tree, and a little Blood Mage and Force Mage specializations; I played on Easy so there’s no friendly fire. I downloaded a hair mod and a freckle mod, and the Vow of Pride robes mod (though I didn’t give those to him until Act 2; in Act 1 I wore the default gear for the RP). A screenshot and another screenshot.
The second little bit is inspired by a mod that removes the dead bodies out of Fenris’s mansion after you recruit him.
Spoilers: Isabela leaves (I didn’t have her approval high enough), Anders dies (sorry, Anders fans).
The dog is named Bo after Sorne’s dog in our DnD game.
This story is rated M for incessant swearing and mild sexiness.
Please Stay
First Meeting
The first time they met was a clichéd moonlit night; Isabela and Carver were slightly bloodspattered from the strange, carefully nondescript mercenaries who had attacked them, but Reid and Varric were doing all right – at least in terms of cleanliness. And now there was this nondescript armoured jackhole getting in their way… “I don’t know who you are, friend, but you made a serious mistake coming here.”
“I feel like I’m not your friend, pal, the way you say that,” Reid said.
The mercenary snarled an order. “Lieutenant, I want everyone in the clearing! Now!”
Slowly, another merc staggered out from around the corner and wheezed his last breath as he fell on his face into a pool of his own blood.
“Your men are dead,” said a deep, smooth, slightly nasal voice, and Reid’s attention was transfixed by the slender armoured figure rounding the corner and descending the stairs towards them – he saw bare feet first, and then the gracefully twining tattoos visible through gaps in the tight leather and steel armour, and then the enormous dark eyes, dark brows, pointy ears, and smooth white hair. “And your trap has failed. I suggest running back to your master while you can.”
The elf moved and spoke with the unconscious confidence of a seasoned fighter, as he walked casually past the merc and towards Reid, who stared at him unabashed. There was a giant claymore strapped to his back, but he didn’t draw it.
“You’re going nowhere, slave!” roared the merc – who had apparently lost all sense of self-preservation, for he – without any back-up left – stomped forward and grabbed the elf’s shoulder.
The tattoos flared lyrium blue, and before Reid could react, the elf spun, slamming his entire fist through the man’s chest with a squelch. Reid jumped, still staring.
“I am not a slave,” the elf declared, as the man fell dead at his bare feet, and turned back to Reid… recovering his cool instantly. “I apologize. When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters, I had no idea they’d be so numerous.”
“So you’re responsible for all this,” Reid said. What an entrance! He was very impressed. By contrast, he’d just stood there like a lump. He’d have to make up for it later.
“Yes,” said the elf. “My name is Fenris. These men were Imperial bounty hunters, seeking to recover a magister’s lost property. Namely, myself. They were trying to lure me into the open. Crude as their methods were, I could not face them alone. Thankfully, Anso chose wisely.”
“Glad I could help,” Reid said. “I’m Reid, Reid Hawke. Carver Hawke, Varric Tethras, Isabela. Mind telling me a little more?”
Fenris answered his questions patiently while searching the body of the mercenary, then said: “My former master accompanied them to the city. I know you’re not done with your questions, but I must confront him before he flees. I… will need your help.”
Reid narrowed his eyes. “You send me into a trap, then ask for my help?” Of course he was going to help; slavery was even worse than being held in a Circle, especially Kirkwall’s circle. But that didn’t mean he could just be cajoled into doing anything for anyone. Even by a pretty face. And a sexy voice. …Well… thinking about it…
“If Anso had told you everything up front, would you have still taken the job?” Fenris asked sardonically. Well… the average person might not have; maybe the elf had grounds to be wary.
“Regardless, I am not lying to you now. I cannot win my freedom alone. Please, help me do this.”
“Oh, all right,” Reid said. “Where is he?”
“A mansion in Hightown,” Fenris said, relaxing just a little with barely perceptible relief.
When Fenris kicked the door in to the mansion and shouted Danarius’s name, he wasn’t entirely prepared for what happened next.
Well, he was a little prepared to be swarmed by shades; he was prepared for the dwarf to fire his crossbow and the younger human with the greatsword to charge and the slutty pirate to duck around to flank. He was not prepared for the redhead to pull the staff from his back and start spewing lightning bolts out of it with deadly accuracy and casual concentration. Fenris caught his breath in sudden apprehension, remembered trauma spiking fear and rage into his gut.
He swore to himself. He’d thought that the staff was for martial arts, but he should have guessed. The leader of this little band was a mage, a fucking apostate. With his luck he’d be an abomination, too. Would he never get away from them?
But he set his teeth. That could be dealt with later. For now, he’d set one mage on another and see what happened.
It was especially too bad because the human was handsome and funny, and seemed generally to be decent overall. At least he didn’t appear to have any overt prejudices against elves, which was nice.
But when it became evident that Danarius had fled, Fenris left Hawke’s little group to get outside, away from them, to think for at least a few minutes. It was difficult. His thoughts were all jumbled up.
First of all, Danarius was gone. It was horribly disappointing. There was no closure from this, and the tension of waiting for him to return would weigh on him – for he would return. On the other hand, Danarius was afraid of him, which was invigorating. No more was he a beaten dog to stand chained and obedient, but a wolf to be feared – and fear meant respect. But he would come back, and Fenris did not know when, and the uncertainty was going to pester him.
Secondly, what was he going to do about Hawke? Apostate or not, he had helped him without hardly a murmur, and had pulled his weight in the battle without resorting to blood magic. He seemed to take everything in stride – he hadn’t even been overly surprised at Fenris himself, and in fact had seemed very interested in everything he did – though not in a weird, creepy way, like Danarius had… No judgement, just… curiosity, without salacious fascination. It was… nice. It was like no experience he’d ever had before, as far as he could remember.
He was still resentful that this man was also a mage. Why did it have to be this way?
“It never ends,” he said, as he heard them coming out of the door.
“Hello to you too,” Hawke said. “What never ends?”
“I escaped a land of dark magic only to have it hunt me at every turn. It is a plague burned into my flesh and my soul.”
“Wow,” Hawke said with undertones of admiration; the dwarf next to him seemed to be making notes.
“And now I find myself in the company of yet another mage.” He turned and advanced on Hawke with squared shoulders, wary of the mage suddenly turning hostile. “I saw you casting spells inside. I should have realized sooner what you really were.”
Hawke shrugged. “It’s to my benefit not to go casting spells in plain view of just anyone. Lightning tends not to be subtle.”
“Indeed. Tell me, then: what manner of mage are you? What is it that you seek?”
“Survival,” Hawke said simply.
“Yet I have seen many crimes done in the name of survival,” Fenris rejoined.
“And how many of them were your own?” Hawke asked shrewdly.
Fenris pulled back his intensity; this sort of answers meant Hawke was not going to turn on him randomly. “I imagine I appear ungrateful. If so, I apologize, for nothing could be further from the truth. I did not find Danarius, but I still owe you a debt. Here is all the coin I have, as Anso promised.”
“You know what,” Hawke said slowly, “I think you might need it more than I do.”
“I don’t need it at all,” Fenris said. “And I owe you a debt.”
“Sod the debt,” Hawke said. “I’m not taking the last coin of a man just trying to get free.”
Fenris glared mildly at him. “Fine. Then instead: Should you find yourself in need of assistance, I would gladly render it.”
“You didn’t seem all that thrilled with me a moment ago.” Hawke’s eyes narrowed to amber slits. He could be intense too, when he wished, it seemed.
“You are not Danarius,” Fenris said evenly, meeting that intensity head-on. “Whether you are anything like him remains to be seen.”
“I have other apostate friends as well,” Hawke said. “Will you have a problem with them?”
“Only if they have a problem with me.”
That seemed to relax Hawke a lot. “I think I would like your company a lot, then, if you’re willing.” The younger human punched him lightly in the arm. “Shut up, Carver.”
Fenris shrugged. “I have nothing better to do while I wait for Danarius to return.”
“You’re so certain he will? He must want more than just a runaway slave.”
Fenris snorted. “He doesn’t want me at all, just the markings on my skin. They are lyrium, burned into my flesh to provide the power that Danarius required of his pet.” Hawke’s eyes really did flash with interest at that, drifting down to the tattoos across his throat and arms, and Fenris regretted explaining. But he would have had to explain sooner or later. Now if he could just get this mage not to see him as an experiment… “And now he wishes his precious investment returned, even if he must rip it from my corpse.”
“Seems like a waste of a perfectly handsome elf,” said Hawke, looking away from the tattoos and back into his eyes, smiling impishly at him, and Fenris, taken completely off-guard, laughed before he managed to turn it into a cough.
He hadn’t just… laughed in a while. No one had made a joke for him instead of about him in a while.
And even that… was it a joke? Hawke – Reid did seem to be eyeing him closely, with maybe a slight tinge to his freckled cheeks. Hard to tell in the torchlight.
Best to move on. “The truth is, I know nothing of the ritual that placed these markings on me. It was Danarius’s choice, one he now regrets.”
“Well, if he comes back, let me know, and I’ll help you kick his ass,” Hawke said.
“Me too,” said the slutty pirate with a wink.
“Sounds like fun,” said the dwarf.
The younger human sighed and didn’t say anything.
“Thanks for the back-up,” Hawke said. “Very well, Fenris, I am planning something soon – maybe we can talk about it in more detail sometime. It’s late, though, and I’d like to head home, if you’ve no more need of me.”
“Good night, then,” Fenris said, and watched them file off into the dark streets.
When Reid went with Varric and Isabela to the Hanged Man – Carver went home – Isabela poured him a drink, then smirked at him. “You’re gone.”
“I beg your pardon,” Reid drawled. “The hell are you talking about?”
She smirked some more, jerked her head in the direction of Hightown. “The elf, Fenris – I’d say it was love at first sight, if I believed in it. And I’d be jealous, if I cared. You wouldn’t be willing to share, would you?”
“I don’t know,” Reid said. “You’re hot, he’s hot… how’s a poor bi to choose?” She was hot. And hilarious, especially when something dirty popped into her head. He’d been enjoying bantering with her – but he hadn’t yet made up his mind if he wanted to sleep with her.
“So don’t choose,” she purred. “Have us both at the same time.”
“If he was into that.”
“If he was into that,” she agreed. “Are you into that?”
Good question. “To be perfectly candid, not really. I…” How to phrase it?
She waved a dismissive hand. “Hey, whatever floats your boat. I’ll clear the field for you, go for it. But if you want me, you know where to find me.”
“Didn’t know that was your type, Hawke,” Varric said. “You always go for the broody ones?”
“I used to be a broody one,” Reid said. “Didn’t work as well with red hair and freckles. White hair and lyrium tattoos are a lot more appropriate. What’s wrong with brooding?”
“He has a solid aesthetic,” Isabela said critically. “Love the tattoos, as you say. And the fisting thing. Would you let him do that to you in bed?”
“Probably not in the chest,” Reid said. “My body needs to keep the blood. But you’re getting ahead of yourself, Bela dear. He doesn’t like mages. Not just his specific mage, but all mages, in general.”
“You’re charming enough, I think you have a shot,” Varric said. “You know, if you want it.”
“I’m a sarcastic asshole,” Reid said.
“Like I said,” Varric said. “Charming enough.”
“You don’t like slavery, that’s a big point in your favour,” Isabela pointed out.
“Low bar, there, I’ll try not to trip on it.” Reid pushed away from the table. “Going to get some air, head home early. Good night, you two.”
He went outside. The moon was dipping towards the horizon – morning would be coming soon. He flexed his wrists. Maybe he’d overextended in the battle, and he was pretty tired. But he wanted to walk a while and think about Fenris some more. He’d caught him by surprise with the flirting, and he’d laughed, and it had been spectacular. The man was breathtaking in every way, in every mood. Now if only he didn’t dislike him so…
At least Fenris was interested in helping out with his jobs, his quests, his… life? Familiarity bred contempt, but it could also lead to disassembling prejudices and creating friendship. He could hope. Because damn what wouldn’t he give to touch that lean, hungry face and watch it soften in affection.
Cleaning the Mansion
“Fenris!” Reid Hawke called out, pushing open the door to the Tevinter mage’s former mansion. “Fen- phew, it reeks.”
“What do you want?” Fenris demanded, padding towards him on slender feet down the stairs.
“Hey,” Reid said, with an involuntary smile. “I wanted to visit. But… you still haven’t cleaned up the bodies in here?”
Fenris shrugged. “Why?”
Reid matched his flat look. “Because it stinks? Haven’t the neighbours complained?”
“Not after they saw the size of my weapon,” Fenris said.
“Damn, your neighbours saw it before I did?” Reid muttered, and Fenris stared for a moment before coughing into an awkward laugh. Fenris always laughed like it was a crime to let his voice out, and Reid wished he could hear it more freely… but he’d settle for more often. How much had Fenris laughed in his life? Obviously not enough, and he was determined to change that. “Come on, let’s get rid of the corpses.”
“Why bother, though?”
“Come on, Fen- can I call you Fen?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Fenris said.
“But I want to,” Reid begged earnestly. “All right, I’ll clean up, and you sit there and drink expensive wine. Look, if you really want some skeletons for the aesthetic, to spook out that mage if he returns, I’ll go find some that are already decomposed. There’s no reason to live like this.”
“If you insist,” Fenris sighed, but the corners of his mouth were pulled up slightly.
“Good,” Reid said. “You’re stronger than me.”
“But you’re so much thicker than me.”
Fenris was slender like a boy, lean and toned and with smooth brown skin under those tattoos – which, even if they were forced on him, were very sexy. Reid was thicker than him, and he didn’t even work out the way Carver did. And it wasn’t like he was well-fed, either. And he was covered in freckles from head to toe, and no one liked that. “Because you’re wiry, and I’m a fat human. Eugh. I’m going to need gloves-”
“Fat isn’t the word I would have used,” Fenris said. “There’s a cart somewhere in the cellar for deliveries or something, we can dump the corpses in Darktown.”
“No, you said ‘thicker’. But it’s close enough.” Inwardly Reid allowed himself to be encouraged. Fenris had looked at his body, and found it… well, not unattractive.
Together, over the next hour, they carried the slimy, gross, disintegrating bodies down to the cellar and tossed them in an old wagon-thing. Mission accomplished, he followed Fenris up to the one habitable room in the house, the master bedroom. Which was littered with broken glass bottles and alcohol stains. Reid ignored it – Gamlen’s house had looked similar until Mother had made him clean it up, and he’d been in worse places. The ship from Ferelden for one.
“You’re not going to insist on cleaning the rest of the house?” Fenris asked sardonically, offering him beer.
“I’m not your… maid,” Reid said. “I just don’t want to feel like my nose is being personally assaulted by another Blight every time I come over.”
“You want to come over that often, do you?” Puzzlement, curiosity, wariness in those gorgeous green eyes.
“Is that a problem?” Reid asked. He knew Fenris was cautious of him, and he didn’t care. This man was the most amazing person he’d met in his life. His presence – so mysterious, melancholy, driven, and physically attractive – single-handedly made Kirkwall bearable, even desirable. And they’d only met a week ago. He was so damn smitten.
Yes, Fenris wanted to say. You helped me, you damned mage, and now you sit there all charming and handsome and potentially full of demons. I said I’d help you, but only because I have nothing else to do and nothing to lose… If I had a choice, I’d never… but he couldn’t finish the thought ‘never see you again’. It had only been a week since they met. He would marvel at how quickly this man had grown on him, except he was still treating Fenris like no one else ever had and the novelty was dangerously seductive.
“No,” he said out loud. “It’s not like I get many visitors anyway.”
“Good,” Reid said, smiling. “Neither do I.”
“Is there a reason for that?” Fenris asked. Surely Reid, with his confidence, wit, and fox-like good looks had far more friends than Fenris did. Not that ‘more than none’ was a terrific feat.
“I don’t like most people,” Reid said. “I don’t like people in general. I prefer to keep to myself.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Fenris said. Not the way he got around. Not the way so many people seemed to know him.
“I’ve been making more of an effort since we arrived in Kirkwall,” Reid said, and the teasing demeanour dropped a little, replaced with something more serious. “Mother needs me to be present since… since Bethany died, and Carver… we fight, but he’s more lonely than I am. He’s more gregarious than I am, first of all, and less popular, second of all. So that’s why I make a point of dragging him around everywhere. So he’ll at least spend time with me and my friends.” He frowned. “I hope I’m doing the right thing. I wonder if it would be better to leave him to his own devices – he’s a grown adult, after all – but Mother says he just sits around the house moping if I don’t take him out. He’s worse than Bo.”
“I can’t advise,” Fenris said, trying not to feel awkward about it, staring into his beer bottle.
“I didn’t ask for advice, so don’t worry about it,” Reid said. “Anyway. No. I don’t like people.”
“Then why do you hang around me?” Fenris demanded.
“I never said I didn’t like you,” Reid said. Damn him, he had no right to have such a rich voice, threaded through with impudence and affection – affection Fenris didn’t know how to read. No one had ever been genuinely affectionate towards him before, not without wanting something from him – but Reid didn’t seem to want anything. It was confusing and slightly frightening.
He turned away. “Why didn’t you just incinerate the bodies instead of dragging them around? If you’re a damn mage why can’t you be a useful one?”
Reid raised an eyebrow. “Because all I’m really good at is casting electrical spells and debilitating people. I just wasn’t born gifted with fire. That’s just how it is. It’s like Carver being dyslexic. I can’t heal, either.”
“Fine,” Fenris said, getting up and starting to pace. “And I… You’ve been decent so far. If it wasn’t for your magic you’d be a normal person.”
“What a concept,” Reid said sarcastically. “A mage is also a person! Wow!”
“Not the ones I’ve met,” Fenris growled. “And the other ones you hang out with put me on edge.”
“What, even Merrill? She’s sweet. Clueless, but sweet.”
“That’s dangerous all in itself,” Fenris said. “You know the dangers of demons, you said. Does she?”
Reid shrugged. “I’ll let her live her own life until she starts trying to impose it on other people, and I really feel like she won’t. Anders, I will grant you, is weird.”
“Anders is a fucking menace,” Fenris said. “He keeps trying to talk to me like we have anything in common. And he never, ever shuts up.”
“It’s strange,” Reid mused. “He uses humour as a shield, but somehow it comes out differently than when I do it.”
Fenris stopped pacing and looked at him. He… really liked Reid’s humour. “It’s because he has an agenda, and you’re actually funny.”
“I am?” Reid looked disproportionately delighted by that, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. “I try.”
Why’d he have to be so charming? A mage, being charming. He didn’t trust it. …But he was starting to trust Reid. He didn’t really have a response, so he grunted.
“Eloquent,” Reid said. “Well, you’re stuck with me, especially now that we dumped the corpses.”
“I guess you really are going to visit,” Fenris said in resignation, and Reid’s laugh was like sunshine.
Three Years
Over the next three years after the near-disastrous expedition to the Deep Roads, they saw each other off and on; sometimes Reid flirted with him, sometimes he didn’t. It was casual, off-hand, and Fenris wasn’t confident enough to follow up on whether he meant it or not. Maybe was afraid to. He didn’t know if he’d been in love before – though that was cause for pause not because he was afraid he might already have pledged himself to someone he couldn’t remember, but because he was afraid he didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t know how he felt about Reid, either. He was funny, and fun to hang out with, to drink with, and Reid didn’t let two weeks go by without calling on him, which was… It was good to have contact with someone, anyone, even a mage. Though the mage thing didn’t come up so frequently during that time; Reid was being especially careful while he made connections in Hightown, buying his mansion and putting his mother in it. Still, Fenris couldn’t exactly forget.
And yes, Isabela for one (and Merrill for another) also checked on him, even Varric looked in every now and then. Was this what it was to have friends? It was strange. He didn’t need them. …But he kind of appreciated them.
Reid had come over on a pleasant day, bringing fresh bread and butter and apples, and Fenris had complained to him about the lack of hated ex-master to kill, getting so worked up as to stand and pace restlessly through his room like a caged tiger. He hated that he could make that comparison to himself now when he was free, just because he was indoors, but… on the other hand, he didn’t want to be outdoors either. He wasn’t Dalish – probably.
Reid was probably bored of his grousing, and he turned back to him, swallowing his frustration. “Tell me: what do you do when you stop running?”
The redhead took a minute to answer, and the look on his face suggested he was actually thinking of a serious answer. Good; it had been a serious question. “You take a breath and look around. And start anew.”
“I don’t know how,” Fenris said bluntly.
“Why’s that?”
“My first memory is receiving these markings, the lyrium being branded into my flesh.” Reid winced, as he usually did when Fenris brought it up. “The agony wiped away everything. Whatever life I had before I became a slave… it’s lost.” And at the moment he didn’t really care. How could he miss what he didn’t know?
Reid was looking at him with a kind of worried confusion, and he didn’t really like it. Didn’t like seeing those eyes with that light, the tension in the narrow brows. “I shouldn’t trouble you with this. My problems are not yours.” And Reid had plenty of his own problems.
That made Reid grin; he bit into a hunk of bread and butter, ripping off a chunk, chewing with his mouth open like a peasant. “I might be able to help with your problems.” Fenris’s gaze was drawn to his canines; not that they were unusually long, but they added to the look of mischief in his eyes as he added: “…Or give you a few more.”
That sardonic self-awareness made him chuckle. “Only a few?” But his heart was pounding in his chest. He didn’t normally encourage the flirting. How would Reid take it? Would he actually say something? Did Fenris want him to say something?
The devious grin widened. “It depends if I really work at it.”
It took all his self control to keep a straight face. “Tempting.” Subtlety was a rude word with him, now that he’d made up his mind to speak, so he said: “You’re a handsome man, Hawke. Is there really no one else who has your… attention?” Please say no, please say no.
Reid blinked, swallowing his food, and a massive blush bloomed on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that first part.”
That blush was everything and Fenris was mesmerized. Maybe Reid had been just teasing again… but he wasn’t joking about the attraction. Fucking shit he was hot when he was flustered. Fenris chuckled again, his own blush taking over as he looked away. “I don’t need to repeat the obvious, I’m certain.”
“It would boost my ego,” Reid said, red as a tomato and smirking like he didn’t know he was the sexiest man in Kirkwall.
“What, all the swooning women falling at your feet don’t do it already? Greedy man.”
Reid actually ducked his head. “I have a horrible face full of horrible freckles.”
What. “What’s wrong with freckles? At least you don’t have cursed tattoos.”
“There’s nothing wrong with cursed tattoos,” Reid said. “As long as they don’t hurt you. Anymore.”
Fenris frowned. “I’m an escaped slave, and an elf, living in a borrowed mansion. None of those things bother you?”
Reid looked back up at him, and suddenly his gaze was earnest, open, vulnerable. “And I’m an apostate refugee nouveau-riche human. Does that bother you?”
He wasn’t wrong, and Fenris lowered his gaze. “You have me there.”
“Why do you think that would bother me?” Reid asked.
It was true Reid had never treated him any differently – besides the teasing flirtation, but he never put him down or set him aside – even when mages were involved, and Fenris had opinions, he treated him with respect – if setting his will implacably against Fenris’s – and once Fenris got over the knee-jerk gut-punch whenever he saw one, he… could understand where Reid was coming from, even if he hated it and thought he was being naive. But it really seemed that Reid didn’t see him any different than any of his other friends. To Reid, he was just Fenris.
A person.
A person to be admired, apparently. Both things were still a novelty even after three and a half years. “You are not most people, clearly.”
“Well that’s been obvious since I was fucking born,” Reid said, and Fenris tried not to laugh again. He’d never laughed so much in his life as when Reid came around. “Hey, I… you don’t have to answer, if it’s a bad subject, but how did you know your name is Fenris?”
“If I lost my memory?” No, this was fine, he could answer this. “Fenris was the name Danarius bestowed upon me, his ‘little wolf’. If I once had another name, or a family, they were taken from me.”
“That’s something I would feel sympathy for you for, but the way you say it tells me you don’t really care right now.”
“That’s correct.”
“Do you know how old you are?”
“No. …I’ve been an adult for years, if that’s relevant. How old are you?”
“Twenty… six,” Reid said. “You didn’t decide to pick your own name when you got out?”
Fenris shrugged. “It’s not a bad name. I like being a wolf.” He bared his teeth and Reid smiled. “And what would be the point? I want Danarius to come so I can kill him. There’s no need to change anything.”
“I suppose,” Reid said. “As you like, Fen.”
“I…” asked you not to call me that, Fenris almost said, but stopped. He’d started to like it, that there was a name that only Reid called him. “Whatever.”
Matchmaker
His mother was quite cheerful at dinner that night. “It’s so strange – my childhood home, now owned by my child.”
“It’s your home too, Mother,” he said. If this was all he could do to make up for the loss of Bethany and Carver… not that Carver was dead, but who knew when they would ever see him again… if they’d see him again, Grey Wardens didn’t exactly have safe lives – but he was probably having the time of his life, not having to follow Reid around everywhere to have a life of his own, even if his letters were full of not completely sincere complaining – anyway, if this was all he could do for his mother, he was going to do it, dammit.
“But you earned and paid the money,” his mother said. “I’m just happy you love me.”
“Of course.”
“It’s even more strange not to have anything to do,” she went on. “Not that I missed it, of course. Living as Malcolm’s wife, there was always so much to do, and it was worth doing. It was much more interesting than my pampered youth, especially with all the love and laughter to temper it. Now, I’m not sure what I should be doing. Except make sure there’s still plenty of love and laughter to go around.”
“Just… don’t go all pompous on me, all right?” Reid had met enough stupid nobles already; they couldn’t quite deal with his sharp tongue, and it hadn’t made him too many friends among the social circles he now moved in.
His mother smiled. “I promise. If there’s one thing I learned in Ferelden, it’s that good people can be born in a hut as easily as a palace.” She gave him a knowing smile. “Like my own children.”
“Damn straight,” Reid said.
“I guess I just need to start finding you a suitable wife,” his mother said.
Reid nearly did a spit-take on his turnips, choked, and had to reach for his wine to control the coughing. “Mother, no. I know that’s what other noble parents are doing, but I really don’t… It’s not… There’s no need for that.”
“You haven’t been spending time at the Rose,” his mother went on mercilessly, and he flushed bright red to know that she’d known he’d spent time there previously (did she know Carver had been, too?), “so does that mean you have your eye on someone? What about Aveline, she’s pretty and gets things done?”
“Our children would be the most red-headed redheads to ever redhead,” Reid objected facetiously. “Also I’m the last man in hell she would consider, I killed her husband. And I think she has a crush on a guardsman.”
“Your friend Merrill, then. She’s a little odd, but it wouldn’t be the first time a human took an elf wife, and she’s always been very sweet and kind and polite.”
“I’m not…”
“Please don’t tell me it’s Isabela. I don’t mean to judge your friends, and I’m sure she’s a good friend, but maybe not wife material? It doesn’t seem like something she’d be interested in.”
“Mother, please!” Reid resisted the urge to faceplant into his plate. “Besides, what if it’s not a woman?”
“Oh!” his mother perked up with a big smile. “That’s right, you also like men. Oh, of course, it’s Varric! He’s so charming, and witty like you. You two get along so well.”
Reid did faceplant into his plate and heard his mother chuckle. “No, mother. It’s not Varric.” He sat up and wiped turnips and oil off his face. “Anyway, you can’t tell him, I don’t know if it’s going anywhere. He’s a little bit prickly and hard to get close to.”
“Oh, it’s Anders, isn’t it,” she said. “I didn’t notice he was prickly… he seems rather flippant to me, but not like you are. He doesn’t seem to take anything seriously.”
“No, not Anders. Anders is an asshole.” He sighed. “And by process of elimination, you must now know that of all my close Kirkwall friends, it’s Fenris.”
Her eyes widened. “Fenris? Really? I didn’t… Hm. Really?”
“Yes, really.” Reid sighed again and put his chin on his hand. “He’s beautiful. And well-spoken. And an escaped slave. He doesn’t like mages, so I’ve got my work cut out for me, and he doesn’t like relating our circumstances, but I think he likes me. But he’s so… dour, and… lonely. I just… want to protect him. Even if he spends most of his time protecting me. I want to see him happy.”
“Oh, my dear son,” said his mother. “This is the worst in love I’ve ever seen you. I hope it goes well.” She paused. “And if it doesn’t, I’m here to listen.”
“Thanks, Mother.”
“Well, now I have to figure out how to get the other nobles to accept Reid Hawke taking an elf husband.”
“Oh, Mother.” Reid put his head in his hands. “Well, you have some time to think about it, because neither of us has bloody said anything yet.”
“Nothing at all?” his mother asked with a devious glint in her eye.
“I called him handsome, and he laughed.” Still one of his top ten memories. “And he called me handsome and I blushed like an idiot. I think he’s interested, just cautious.”
“A good start.” She nodded. “Keep me updated.”
“Mother!”
Bisexual
It took him a while to figure out that though Reid was attracted to him, he wasn’t exclusively attracted to him. And, surprisingly, it gave them something in common. “You were staring at that woman.”
“Was I? Oops. I’ll stare at you instead.” Reid turned around and turned his gaze intently into Fenris’s eyes. They were sitting together on a low wall in Hightown, watching people go by.
Fenris rolled his eyes. “Sure, she’s pretty, but I thought you were gay.”
Reid blinked. “I’m… not. I’m bi.”
“Oh.”
“If you’re questioning my fidelity, I assure you it’s very strong. I was just appreciating from afar.”
“That’s not… I just…” How did normal people talk about this? “I wasn’t being jealous or anything.” There wasn’t anything to be jealous of. It wasn’t like there was anything between them. Yet.
“Are you gay?” Reid asked, and Fenris swallowed, because he wasn’t sure of the answer to that.
“I’m attracted to you, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t know. I haven’t had much cause to think about it since I escaped.”
“What about other people?”
“Why are you so insistent?”
“I’m curious. But if you don’t want to know what your sexual identity is, that’s fine.”
“You want to know what my… sexual identity is, Reid.”
“Sure, I have a vested self-interest. And curiosity.”
“Curiosity killed the cat, isn’t that what your people say?”
Reid chuckled. “Sure. Good thing I like snakes better.”
“Snakes?” That seemed random. “Why?”
“They’re hard to catch, reputedly clever, and unpredictable. Very dangerous when cornered.”
“They’re also reputed to be cold and heartless, aren’t they?” Reid was warm and open – at least to him.
“Well, some people think that about me. I’m pretty cold to people who aren’t my friends.”
“No, you’re not, you’re a sarcastic dick to people who aren’t your friends. And sometimes to your friends as well.”
“All right, point taken. And I’m sure the people I’ve killed think I’m heartless.”
“Well, you’re not.”
“You know I never killed anyone before the Blight?” Reid said, voice and body language pulling into himself. “I only ever practised magic with my father most of my life. Killed some wolves once outside of the village as a teen, when I’d gone further than I was supposed to. Then we were running from Lothering and there were darkspawn everywhere. That was the first time I’d ever seen real combat. And then I had to kill Aveline’s husband before he completely succumbed to the Blight.”
“And now people attack you on a near-daily basis,” Fenris said. “And you take mercenary work on the side. Does it make you wish you could go back?”
“Of course,” Reid said. “But Lothering is gone, so I’m making the best of it. I had a pet snake once, you know. Just a little garden snake. He ate the mice in the cottage, but he was so small that when he caught one you’d see it in his belly.”
“Hm.” He’d never had any pets. He’d been the pet.
“Anyway. Sex.”
“Why does that interest you?”
“Because I’m a red-blooded young man, and reportedly my dick is all I’m allowed to think about until I reach the age of forty. Maybe even then.”
Fenris snorted. “Fine. I like looking at men and women. Happy?”
“Sure.”
“I haven’t exactly had many opportunities to get close to anyone. Of my own free will, that is.”
Reid suddenly shut up, suddenly wary and careful. “Well… if I push too hard, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Fenris said. Subject change? “When did you realize you were… bi?”
“Hm… funny story, that. It’s really the twins’ fault that I realized it.”
“You didn’t…”
“No! I did not have a crush on my siblings.” Reid shuddered. “That would be weird. No, but when Carver pointed out a girl he liked, I’d be able to see what he saw. But when Bethany pointed out a boy she liked, I’d be able to see it too. For a while I just assumed that I was straight, like Carver, and just was… I don’t know, perceptive? But after a while, after a boy flirted with me – I wasn’t into him specifically, but it was incredibly revealing – and it showed me that yes, I like both.” Reid moved his hand closer to Fenris’s. “I like you.”
“Don’t know why that would be,” Fenris said, wondering if it was time to flee. Reid just smiled mysteriously. Mischievously. Dammit.
Scream
Street fights were frustratingly common at night in Kirkwall, and tonight was no exception. Reid and Varric were back to back, and Fenris and Isabela were out in front, stabbing everything in their vicinity. Reid really just wanted to lean on his staff and stare dreamily at Fenris fighting, but first of all that would piss off his companions who needed him to pull his weight in the battle as one of their group’s hardest hitters, and second of all he didn’t know if Fenris would find that flattering or insulting. But Fenris was so quick, and strong, and lithe, and swung that greatsword like it weighed nothing, impossibly fast, really. His tattoos glowed – occasionally flaring as he called on their power, even through his armour, and that was hot. His movements were violently graceful and his face shifted between utter implacable determination and grim rage.
Okay so maybe he was still watching him a little too closely, because he’d somehow gotten separated from Varric, and enemies were closing in on him. He used Mind Blast to throw them back – it was really strong now – and he got two of them, but the third got within melee range of him, swinging at his not-so-well-protected body. Reid blocked with his staff, but his strength was only that of desperation, not of actual physical prowess, and after a moment the thug twisted his blade, ripping his staff out of his hands, and knocked him down with his shield. Reid fell hard on his ass, scrambling away backwards – his staff was on the other side of the thug, and he was out of tricks without that – as the thug loomed over him. “Fenris!”
Before his scream even had a chance to die away, there was a blue flash, and a thud, a squelch, and Fenris had ripped the thug’s heart right out of his back. Lyrium glow was flickering up and down his body, and absolute rage was in his eyes. He was so fucking gorgeous Reid just about died to witness him.
Reid stared up at his saviour, breathing hard from terror and exertion. “Th-thank you.”
“You idiot,” Fenris said, and reached down to give him a hand up.
The touch of their hands was like the electricity that Reid was good at throwing around, and he clasped Fenris’s hand firmly, seeking contact even through the leather glove and steel gauntlet. Fenris pulled him to his feet easily. “Thank you.”
“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Fenris grumbled, and turned away to make sure there wasn’t anyone else coming for them.
That fucking mage.
Well, that wasn’t fair to Reid. He couldn’t help being a mage. He could help paying better attention in battle, and not getting cornered by melee combatants.
Cornered, and disarmed, and knocked down – just about everything but killed, and the thought of it sent a shiver down Fenris’s spine. He’d moved instinctively on hearing the scream – even if it hadn’t been his name, but it had been his name – and the thought of that made his heart catch, that Reid would call for him when in trouble, even though Varric had probably been closer – and he’d do it again. In fact, he probably would have to do it again… Reid was so fragile, physically speaking. But his heart had stopped on hearing that scream, and that was… unpleasant.
And the sight of him – helpless, terrified for his life – was both terrifying and… alluring. Not even in the way he’d once thought it would be – to see a mage, a human mage, cowering at his feet, he’d thought would be thrilling and empowering – but now he was assailed by new thoughts. One was that he never wanted Reid to look so helpless and frightened again, that he would defend him personally with all the blood in his body – him, defend a mage – but that wasn’t it, it was defending Reid. Reid wasn’t like other mages. He was different. He was special. Possibly unique. Worth protecting.
And the other was that he wanted to be on top of Reid, dominating him, pushing him down into that physical position even if he didn’t want him in that emotional position again. Because Reid was fucking hot on his back, vulnerable, with freckles on his soft throat, and he could imagine him yielding to his touch the way he did every other time they came into physical contact.
Which additionally conflicted him because up until this point he’d stayed away from physical encounters with anyone. In his past, physical touch had usually meant pain, or evoked memories of worse pain. But… the very fact that he could imagine something else with Reid… that meant he wasn’t too far gone, right?
He was going to have trouble sleeping once they split up for the evening.
Pride Demon
Ried was annoyed. And he tried not to show it because he really liked Fenris and he would cut him a lot of slack on a lot of things – he didn’t presume that escaped slaves knew everything that he did.
And yet the way Fenris had immediately accepted the pride demon’s offer, without a thought for him… or their goal… or any of the – that idiot. He talked about how dangerous mages were, and then nearly did the exact same thing they did.
The fact that Fenris clearly hated mages not because they were in danger of falling to demons but just because they had magic was too chilling to think about at the moment. So he was annoyed instead.
Fenris had apologized, rather casually, when they got out, but that didn’t get him off the hook.
So when Fenris invited him to come visit his mansion a few days later, Reid was a little cooller than normal in his greeting. But Fenris had beat him to the point. “I have been thinking more about what happened in the Fade. That a demon could have played so easily on my fears… disturbs me.”
Of course, Fenris didn’t exactly have a mage’s training. Everything was a little confused in the Fade; like a waking dream that still didn’t quite make sense. Fenris basically hadn’t been in his right mind. And even if he wanted power… he wouldn’t want anything to have control over him ever again.
“I failed you,” Fenris said, looking directly at him. “I won’t let that happen again.”
Reid gave him a wry smile of acceptance, and maybe of relief. “Everyone gets one free demonic possession before I hold it against them.”
“Good to know,” Fenris said, looking like he wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not.
Reid sighed. “That was a joke, Fen. A bad one, I guess. I don’t want to see anyone possessed. You’re very lucky it didn’t get further – that it still considered me a more useful target, because you’re not a mage.” Fenris twitched a little, like his very body rejected that idea. “I forgive you. Hopefully we don’t have to do anything like that again. Or at least that I don’t need to take you.”
“Leaving me behind because I’m unreliable?” Fenris said, trying not to sound hurt.
“No! Leaving you behind because it’s actually safer for you. I know you hate mages, Fen, but surely at least this has shown you that I am trained to do what I do, and I’m good at it? I can actually take care of myself in the Fade. I need you to take care of me out here.”
Fenris grumbled under his breath, but let it go.
“Okay, so now the mood’s as heavy as a pregnant cow, what did you invite me over for?” Reid said. “Surely not just to apologize for something you could probably classify as my fault anyway.”
Fenris looked at the floor, trying not to smile, evidently still feeling guilty, and shook his head, before waving him to follow and heading upstairs to his room. “It’s a special occasion. I… wanted company.”
“Ah! I’m honoured. What’s the occasion?”
“The anniversary of my escape.” Fenris waved him to a seat, picked up a wine bottle, chugged a bunch, then raised it in a toast. “Astia valla femundis.”
“I don’t speak Tevinter,” Reid said.
Fenris shrugged and didn’t explain, passing the bottle to him. “It’s the last bottle of the Agreggio. Care to hear the story?”
“I would love to hear the story,” Reid said, and took a big sip from the bottle himself. Indirect kisses huzzah? The wine was smooth and rich, with the sorts of notes that he didn’t get a chance to savour often. “I enjoy listening to you talk.” It didn’t happen too often, unless the mood was right, or he pressed him for information.
“And I enjoy a man willing to speak his mind,” Fenris said, with a little smile. Was that… flirting?
He told him a chilling tale, of a time when he was so deeply brainwashed by slavery that at his master’s order, he would kill those who aided him, and how the destruction had begun to awaken him to his own self. It wasn’t a very happy anniversary, Reid reflected.
Fenris, currently back in possession of the bottle, tipped it back. Together they’d almost drained it. As he lowered it, he lowered his gaze with a brooding frown. “I have never spoken about what happened to anyone. I’ve never wanted to.” He glanced up towards Reid almost shyly. “Perhaps this is what it means to have a friend.”
Reid put his head to one side. “What about more than that?” Be still, his pounding heart.
Fenris huddled back in his chair, drawing his legs up. “I… have never allowed anyone too close. The markings… the pain… the memory of it… I…” He pulled himself out of those thoughts, glancing at Reid again. “But you are a man unlike any other, Reid. With you… it might be different.”
He wasn’t sure what Fenris was talking about. Had his tattoos involved rape? Maker, he hadn’t even considered that Fenris might have been raped in his past life. He would have to tread very carefully. And yet to see him happy, if Reid could make him happy, would be so worth it. “Do you want to find out?”
“On another evening, perhaps,” Fenris said, and Reid nodded. Inwardly, his stomach was filled with butterflies. Had Fenris… maybe… agreed to date him? No, that was too… social. But he wasn’t against… a relationship…?
Fenris shook the bottle, there was just a little left. “A last toast, then: to the fallen.”
Merrill
The whole group was at the Hanged Man, drinking socially, and Fenris was not comfortable. He’d never quite been comfortable with ‘hanging out’ with this lot, but he had wanted to anyway – contact with other people was… so alluring. To feel that there were other people in the world who, even if they didn’t understand him, would at least not treat him any differently than their other friends.
But now it was almost psychological torture, to see Reid smiling and laughing, trading barbs with Isabella or sniggering with Varric, nodding along with Anders, sticking his tongue out at Aveline, or patting Merrill on the head like the older brother-type he was. Fenris retreated to the bar to get another drink.
Merrill followed him with a giggle.
“What,” he demanded. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
She grinned at him with the most glee he’d ever seen on her. “You’re in love.”
He panicked. No one else was supposed to know that. It wasn’t… he wasn’t ready for it. How did she know?? “I am not.”
“You keep looking at Reid with sad puppy eyes every time his back is turned,” she said in a sing-song voice.
Okay, so he looked at Reid a lot. That didn’t mean… “There are no puppy eyes.”
Why did her smile have to be so sweet? “It’s all right, you know. Even you can be happy once in a while, it won’t kill you. But your face might crack if you smile, so be careful.”
He snorted, and couldn’t help the tiniest smile. “Good one.” She had him pegged on that, all right.
“I rather thought it was!” She went skipping back to the table with the others, leaving Fenris to gaze at them from afar.
Which was not good, if what Merrill said was to be believed. They’d notice him staring from a distance far more easily than if he were right among them. He heaved a sigh, drank half his mug, and went back over.
Reading
“You have a lot of books,” Fenris said, looking up at the walls of Reid’s study. “Do you actually read them all?”
“Yeah,” Reid said, from half-upside down in his favourite reading armchair, curled around a treatise. “I’ve always loved books. I never had the resources to acquire so many before, or the space to put them, so this is really nice. One of my favourite things about being well-off.”
“What are they about?” Fenris asked.
Reid grinned at him. “Depends. That shelf is all smuggled treatises on magic theory, disguised to look like smut. Those two shelves are about history, arranged by nation. That one really is smut.” He cast a wary eye at Fenris. “It’s hard to pick up on, but you did say to me once no one taught you to write – they ever teach you to read?”
“No,” Fenris said, and paced around, looking at the book spines. Reid watched from his armchair. “I can see the patterns but their meaning has never been important enough to decipher.”
“Fair enough,” Reid said. “Would you like to know?”
Fenris looked over at him, considering. “You’re offering?”
“Yes.” Reid jumped at the chance to spend more time with him, especially in a non-combat situation. After all, Fenris really needed a hobby that wasn’t drinking. “I mean, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to keep going with it. Though I’ve got a book purportedly by Shartan, maybe you’d want to see that one?”
“All right.” Fenris sat down in the other chair, at the ready. “Teach me.”
“Sure.” Reid got up and waved Fenris to follow him to the other room, to the writing desk, where he pulled up an extra chair and checked the pens to see how many of them were sharp. “I figure once you’ve learned all the letters, I’ll lend you one of Bela’s books. If you can get off on that, you officially know how to read.” Not how he would normally teach a beginner to read, not how he’d helped his parents teach his siblings to read – Carver’s case had made that exceptionally difficult, but if he could help Carver, he could handle anyone – but Fenris didn’t need coddling. Wouldn’t want coddling.
Fenris snerked. “What if I don’t because the contents aren’t to my taste?”
“It’s true I’m not a fan of her style,” Reid said. “I prefer things a bit more… anatomically accurate.”
Fenris couldn’t help cracking a smile, and Reid warmed to see it. “Hell. There are books in my house; I don’t know how useful they still are, with the weather getting at them.”
“Well, now you’ll have a reason to check. Though I doubt Danarius would have anything for beginners.”
“And you do?”
Reid shrugged, quickly sharpening the last pen to an adequate point. “Bela’s books are horrible, but they don’t involve too many long words. ‘Cock’ is shorter than ‘penis’, after all. Marginally. Unless you’re into that. I’d recommend reading Varric’s stories instead but they have longer words.”
Fenris put his face in his hands. “I am suddenly regretting this.”
Reid patted his shoulder. “Fine, I’ll write you something myself. Now, most people learn the alphabet first, but it’s a completely arbitrary ordering of sounds that probably doesn’t make any sense for an adult to pick up on, so we’re going to try something else.”