#No I am not abandoning Spilt Blood-that's done and will be posted sometime but we are onto new endeavours

[ginnyw-potter]

Just dropping this in here. nothing to see of course

[sinsbymanka]

Thank you so much @fairfaxleasee for donating! I loved the opportunity to write some FenHawke (I do love a good FenHawke, the ANGST in this pairing I swear) and their trusty mabari!

I’m not longer accepting RAINN Commissions but you can see the ones that are already finished in this series on AO3. Thank you to everyone who has supported me!

Title: Ghosts on the Run Pairing: Fenris x Female Hawle Rating: T Content Warnings: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sided with Templars, Established Relationship, Post-Dragon Age II, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Nail Biting, Skin Scratching Read on AO3

The room they paid too much coin for smelled like overcooked cabbage and wet dog. Rain still clung to the mabari’s fur, still soaked almost all the clothing they were attempting to dry in front of the pitiful fire.

It was a far cry from the Viscount’s Keep, in fact it seemed a world away. And yet, Fenris knew they were not far enough away for safety. The hair at the back of his neck prickled, he fought the urge to pace in front of the door.

Anders. If he followed the bitter trail of his thoughts, it started with Anders. His constant agitation, his lies, his path of vengeance that consumed so many lives before his own finally ended in blood spilt on the cobblestones.

Except of course, it was not so simple. It was, indeed, Anders. It also was the Qunari that murdered the Viscount. It was Meredith finally succumbing to madness from the red lyrium they’d pulled from the deep roads.

Kirkwall, in the end, took everything Cassia Hawke put into it and spat her back out. Fenris should have insisted they left the moment they put the Viscount’s crown on Cass’s head rather than wait for the inevitable storm that waited in the wings. Kirkwall had a bloody history, particularly in regards to its rulers, but it had been his home too.

The only home he remembered. The only home he wished to remember.

Cass implemented reforms to ensure safety, fairness, and to prevent spilling more blood. The battle for the Gallows had been vicious and decimated Mages, Templars, and the civilians trapped between them. Kirkwall could ill afford to lose more lives, but the Templars resisted. For that reason, Fenris was not surprised when they received word the Seekers were coming.

And he could not lose Cass. Would not lose her. Kirkwall could have everything it had taken. It could not have Cass. He would not allow it.

Fenris forced himself to bolt the door and turn his back to it. His eyes darted quickly to the bed. Squall splayed unapologetically across the entire mattress, leaving precious little room for Cass. She took up a mere sliver of the mattress without complaint, gaze locked on the fireplace in silence.

Fenris glared at the mabari, who lifted his large snout in response. Fenris lifted an eyebrow and inclined his head to the floor pointedly. Squall tipped his head in the opposite direction, lifting his head from the quilt.

Fenris sighed. He clutched his hand into a fist behind his back before raising it above his head. He felt ridiculous, but it worked like a charm immediately. Squall’s ears perked up and he watched while Fenris pitched an imaginary object on the other side of the room.

The second the dog abandoned the bed, Fenris hurried to claim a spot next to Cass. He sank down onto the lumpy mattress beside her, watching closely. She lifted her fingers to her lips, chewing at the nails and skin surrounding them before a slight tremor rocked her shoulders. Fenris tore his own hand through his hair in aggravation before hissing out a breath through his teeth.

He did not know what to say. He never knew what to say.

“I’m sorry.”

He almost missed the whisper against her fingers, punctuated by an aggrieved noise from Squall himself, who had clearly realized the deception Fenris had played. Fenris ignored the whine to focus on Cass instead, gently pulling her hand from her mouth.

He held her hand for a moment before slowly dropping and moving to smooth the frazzled auburn curls of his lover. He swallowed, pondering his words carefully, before he asked his question.

“What have you done?”

Fenris waited in the silence until she spoke again, the rage and hurt swimming beneath her words.

“I should never have been Viscount. I wasn’t qualified. We knew I’d be shit at it. Now Varric has to clean up my mess.”

“It is what he excels at.” Fenris offered.

“You’re on the run.” Cass sniffed. Her shoulders shook with a barely contained sob. “Again.”

And yet, it did not feel the same. The fear of being hunted was familiar, but the warmth in his heart, the strength of his will…

That was new, and it was worth all of it.

“I am with you.” Fenris smoothed her hair from her temple, tracing the skin there with one finger. “I am where I wish to be. Do not doubt it.”

“You said the room smells like day old stew.”

He chuckled. “It is not an untrue statement, Cass.”

It still felt unbelievable to draw her closer, still felt awkward to wrap his arms around her and hold her to his chest. As if this was simply a trick of the fade and she may vanish.

Instead, she rested her cheek against his shoulder.

“Do you regret it?” She whispered.

“You are the most wonderful and important thing that has ever happened to me.” He answered. “Do not doubt it for a moment.”

For a moment, the only answer was silence. The faint pop of the fire. Squall’s panting in the background. Cass raised her arms and he feared she’d scratch at her neck until she made the skin raw, like she did sometimes, but instead she simply wrapped them around him in return.

Her entire frame shook with a silent, wrenching sob. Then another. Fenris held her as they came, faster and more furious, while she clung to him. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Eventually the shaking became tremors until she grew still. Tears soaked his shoulder, but her breath came easily, heavy with sleep.

Slowly, he lowered her back onto the mattress, tucking a curl from her cheek.

Perhaps they were on the run, but they were free and they were together. Fenris would not take either of those things for granted.