#fenhawke fic

[barbex]

Happy Friday! From the sappy prompts, “I can’t stay away from you.” Maybe FenHawke?

Thank you! This is a continuation from this fic, for @dadrunkwriting:

--

Fenris doesn't remember how he got outside of the Hanged Man. Inside, the traces of the battle and Danarius' death are already scrubbed away, fresh paint covering the burn marks on the walls. He is free now, just like Hawke said, but instead of celebrating with his friends, he is alone.

Alone, because he pushed them away. Because he still can't let go of the horror of being owned by a mage, even though Hawke never acted like that towards him. 

"You're an asshole, you know?"

Fenris whips around, only to face Anders. "Mage. Leave me alone."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna." Anders pushes away from the wall and gestures towards the stairs up to Hightown. "Hawke went home, Amell mansion, in case you've forgotten." 

"I... I cannot..."

Anders sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Listen. You just went through a whole load of trauma, and it made you lash out. That sucks, asshole move and all that, and you made Hawke cry, but it's not the end."

"How can it not be the end —" 

"Because you can apologise. Comes with being free."

The ground seems to shift under his feet. "I don't know how."

Anders watches him for a moment, then gestures at him to follow him. As they climb up the stairs to Hightown, Anders starts speaking. "It's as simple and as hard as saying 'I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me one day.' And you better mean it. I've never seen Hawke cry and I don't want to see it again."

The door to Hawke's home looms in front of him. Anders doesn't give him a chance to be a coward, knocking on the door for him. Bodhan opens, looks from one to the other, and steps wordlessly aside.

"Thank you," Fenris says to Anders. 

"Don't thank me yet. The hardest part is yet to come." He makes a vague gesture with his hand and walks away. 

Fenris leaves his sword and armor with Bodhan and climbs up the stairs to Hawke's private room. Every step seems to be harder than the one before. At her door, he nearly turns away again, only embarrassment at his own cowardice makes him knock.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Fenris."

The door flies open. Hawke stares at him, holding the door open with one arm. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying. Guilt at causing this pain makes Fenris' knees shake.

"Don't you dare to fall to your knees," Hawke says, her voice rough and hard.

"But I should. I am sorry. I... what I said..."

"Get in here." 

He steps inside, hovering in the middle of the room as Hawke closes the door. He can feel her presence behind his back, her magic like a beacon. Maybe it is easier to speak if he can't see her face. "I came to apologise. I'm sorry to have caused you pain. You have every right to hate me now and I will leave if you ask me to. But I... I have never regretted anything more than what I said to you back there."

A hand touches his back, sliding down his spine. She is closer now, sliding her hands over his waist to wrap her arms around him from behind. "I already know that I can't stay away from you. I waited for you so long." She presses a kiss to his neck. "You hurt me, but I know that your entire world changed in that moment, and I can forgive you for being confused."

Fenris turns in her arms, taking her face in his hands. "I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"It's not about deserving and earning." She turns her head to kiss the inside of his wrist. "It's about dealing with emotions and speaking about them. Do you think you can do that?"

Relief spreads in his chest like fresh air. "Yes, I can."

"Then we'll figure it out." 

She kisses him, and he finally believes in his new life.

[varric-tethras-editor]

WIP Wednesday? More like WOW NEW FIC WEDNESDAY.

Yup, you read that right followers! I have a BRAND NEW WORK because I am a tremendous glutton for punishment who loves starting things she can't ever possibly finish! YOU CAN READ IT HERE

It's a collection of vignettes spanning the decade of Dragon Age II based on the 22 Major Arcana Tarot Cards. Each chapter will focus on one of the cards and it's symbolism/meaning and will be broken up into three vignettes representing the three acts of the game.

I have been toying with this idea for a few months now and I genuinely cannot believe the day has come to unleash it into the world. This feels monumental and prideful and I really hope you guys enjoy reading this concept as much as I've enjoyed writing/daydreaming about it.

I LOVE YOU ALL HERE'S ANOTHER LINK

[tevintersoldier]

when one of the best and most unique fics you've read in ages is from an orphaned account😭😭 pls i just want to read all their other work i'm sure there's more😭

the fic is by the still waters, and it's a dragon age fenhawke fic. the story is that hawke stayed behind in the fade in the inquisition quest, and when fenris found out he went all the way to skyhold to find a way to get him back. inquisitor (lavellan) could and would not help, but she knew merrill from back in the day, and told him she could probably do something. so together with varric they go all the way back to kirkwall, and with merrill's help they find a way to get into the fade. they encounter solas in the fade, and their quest continues. lots of demon fighting and so much LORE. i won't spoil everything so just..... just read it, it was so good🥺

[inquisimer]

dragon age oneshot fic recs

@dreadfutures said that we should do more fic recs and she's absolutely right, so I'm starting what will hopefully be a series of fic rec lists, leading off with some oneshot recs! These are just standalone stories that don't require a big time commitment and definitely stuck with me after I read them.

Check them out! and leave a comment or kudos to let the author know you did 💜

Feel free to reblog this post and add your own oneshot fic recs! Or make your own fic rec post and tag me in it so I can read and promote your awesome recs :3

-

My Lover's Phylactery by FrodaB

Cullen Rutherford/Female Inquisitor | G | 1472 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: She doesn't destory it Mer's Rec: this is an excellent piece that fills the gap DAI left (imho) about Trevelyan's phylactery! There's some excellent introspection from the Inquisitor and a bittersweet but somft and heartfelt ending between Cullen and his love.

Bent, Not Broken by spirrum (@spirrum)

Fenris/Female Hawke | G | 1595 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: In which Hawke doesn't run off to Weisshaupt, and an angry elf turns up at the Inquisition's door. Mer's Rec: this is a little slice of interpersonal relationships that beautifully captures Hawke's spirit! It starts with some platonic Hawke & Varric, perfectly encapsulating the exhaustion both of them feel after HLTA, and transitions smoothly into the heart-tugging reunion between Hawke and a frustrated Fenris who's very much in love.

last man standing (perhaps) by havvke (Wintertree)

Charade Amell & Carver Hawke & Female Hawke | T | 6749 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: Hawke’s teeth glinted when she grinned, except for the gap of her missing left dogtooth. Funny how they did that, even in such poor lighting. Glinting. Hawke barely seemed real. They’ve gone on a mission or two together since that initial, embarrassingly disastrous meeting, and it was still shocking that the woman lived up—if not surpassed—her nearly legendary status. Compared to the other missions Charade led with the Jennies, this was somewhat easier than her normal fare. But while Hawke was a known figure, and by technicality kin, Charade still didn’t know her. Mer's Rec: Okay, I'm admittedly biased toward this piece, because it was a gift for me as part of the 2023 Platonic Ideal Exchange. That being said, it is an INCREDIBLE work of sibling dynamics and I think of it whenever I think about Charade Amell. Havvke explores the relationship between Charade as a Red Jenny, Carver as a Grey Warden, and Hawke as...Hawke, in a beautiful web of complicated choices and found family. Over a year later, it still holds up as one of the best exchange gifts I've ever received.

Doggone by leggywillow (@leggywillow)

Alistair/Female Warden, Alistair & Anora Mac Tir, Alistair & Warden's Mabari | T | 3042 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: Alistair and the Warden are no longer together, but they still exchange letters - through Dog. Alistair struggles to find happiness in his life as king, but he isn't entirely alone. Mer's Rec: I read this one just recently and oh my GOODNESS it both made me laugh and also pulled at my heartstrings. Leggy alters the canon breakup between a King Alistair & the Warden to be somehow even more heartbreaking and the way that he talks to Dog is just so essentially Alistair, I could hear every line in his voice. Add to that several well done bits between Alistair & Anora and this piece absolutely delivers on the "sad" and "heartache" in the additional tags.

That Word You Call Me by thewitchofthewilds (gossamerstarsxx) (@saiyanshewolf)

Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford | T | 1768 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Author's Summary: The first time she tells him she loves him is the time he needs to hear it the most Mer's Rec: I love this piece for the intermingling of angst and fluff between Lavellan and Cullen. It leads in with one of the better descriptions of nightmare panic that I've seen and the way that Lavellan grounds Cullen from it is smooth and heartfelt, as is his reaction to her comfort. It caps off with some sweet fluff and a taste of human/elf relationships dynamics, for which I am a sucker, and which end the fic on soft, heartfelt note.

[shivunin]

"I know that wicked shape to your smile." - Where Is Your Rider // for Maria :3

Thank you, Mary! <3

Here is some post-Arishok recovery and some very messy feelings:

(Fenris/Hawke | 1,257 Words | CW: Injury/recovery)

To Languish in Repose

“See, your face wasn’t quite as I remembered, but I know that wicked shape to your smile.” —The Oh Hellos, “Where is your Rider”

When Hawke woke near dawn, Fenris was not overly concerned.

The first few times Hawke had woken from her magically-assisted slumber, there’d mostly been the basic necessities to contend with: discerning if she could stand, helping her get clean, fetching her clothing or water or food. 

Every other time, Fenris had stood silently on the periphery, pouring a glass of water and handing it off to Merrill to administer or opening the cabinet for Varric to retrieve a nightgown for their friend. He’d found little to say, even if most of the others had joked or told stories until Maria—until Hawke fell asleep again. The woman herself had said only a handful of words since her near-death at the Arishok’s hands. It was to be expected; Fenris was certain that she had, for a moment, actually been dead. 

And just before she had, she’d said—

Nevermind. It mattered little what she’d said. 

Fenris was not concerned when she woke that morning, nearly three full days since she’d taken her wound. He need not worry what to say to her when she was unlikely to speak, after all. It wouldn’t be a concern that the only other person in the room was Aveline, still half in her guardsman armor and snoring loudly on the settee they’d dragged over to the fireplace. 

When she stirred, he did not move from the wall, but watched and waited. Perhaps Hawke would ask for water or another pillow and then fall asleep again. She’d done as much a dozen times since he’d carried her here through the burning city. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve—any idea of the time,” she said instead, words disjointed where she stopped to catch her breath. 

Fenris, hand already half-reaching for the pitcher on her desk, looked at her. 

“It is nearly morning,” he said, and cast a glance in Aveline’s direction. The other woman did not stir. 

“Oh,” Hawke said. She shifted on the bed, buoyed by a small fortune of pillows, and grimaced. 

“Need something?” he asked. 

“Meredith is awfully—” she began at the same time and sighed. 

“No,” she took a slow breath, grimacing again. 

Fenris had half a thought to retrieve Anders from wherever he’d tucked himself away downstairs. If she was in pain—but she went on again before he could make the decision.

“She’s awfully late,” Hawke finished. 

Fenris frowned at her for a moment, trying to puzzle the words into something that made sense.

“What do you mean?” he said finally, at a loss. His hand had found the handle of the pitcher and he grasped it now, more for something to hold onto than for any actual assistance it might provide. 

“I thought she’d—” Hawke drew in a slow breath, “have me locked in the Circle by now. If I didn’t—die, that is. I thought I…thought I would be...”

For a moment, he could see the outcome of such a thing so clearly that the idea of it filled his bones with ice. He had not even considered—if Meredith had come for Hawke after she’d been wounded, they would have been hard-pressed to fight off the Templars. All of them had been forced to battle their way through the city in the wake of the attack. They had not been at their best. The Templars, comparatively untouched, would have easily cut their way through the lot of them and Hawke—

“No,” Fenris said. “No. She did not come.”

“Well, I did suppose—not,” she said. 

Someone—Merrill, he thought—had braided her hair into a crown. It had more or less stayed in place for the last few days, but a few curls had crept loose overnight. They clung to her forehead with sweat now—it occurred to him that this conversation must be a strain after days of recovery. She should not be speaking like this; not now.

“I would be elsewhere—if she had,” she closed her eyes for a moment. 

The room filled with the sound of her breathing, labored as it was, and Fenris turned away to pour the cup of water she hadn’t asked for. 

“Wouldn’t want you fools,” she sighed, “to get hurt on—my account.”

Fenris snorted. 

“I like you too much,” she went on, “to see you knocked about for me—when I can’t even hit back.”

When you were dying, you said—Fenris thought, and watched the water swirl wildly in the cup before slowly coming to a dizzy halt.

“Drink this,” he said when the water had drawn away from the mouth of the cup, and crossed to her bed to hold it out to her. Hawke didn’t take it. She stared at it instead, as if she didn’t recognize what it was. Her hand half-lifted from the sheets but fell again almost at once. 

“Would that I could,” she said, and the pained half-laugh she managed was cut off by another grimace. 

The next few moments were taken up by Fenris attempting to help her drink without looking too long at her—sallow and exhausted and still breathing too hard. When she drew away, her mouth brushed against the second knuckle of his forefinger and his chest gave a sick lurch. He could not do this, could not be here, but what choice had he? It was nothing; it was nothing.

I did love you, she’d said three days ago, thoughtful—as if she was remembering something she’d forgotten from an earlier conversation. Said it and then stopped breathing, half-smiling at the ceiling as if trying to remember the name of an acquaintance she’d forgotten. I did love you, she’d said, and Fenris was certain she’d died for a moment with the words still clinging to her lips. 

He doubted she would ever remember saying so, but he—how could he forget it? He could more easily wrench his own heart through his chest. It felt as if he already had. 

Fenris waited until she was done and he’d drawn away again to speak again.

“She will not take you now,” he said, and cleared the gravel from his throat. “You’ve been named Champion of Kirkwall. Or—you will be.”

“I—what?” 

Hawke didn’t go on. Fenris turned to look at her, somewhat alarmed, and found that her mouth had fallen open in shock. 

“Yes,” he said. “The letter arrived while you slept.”

“Oh!” she said, and went on. “Ohoho—oh, that must really gall her. That must—”

She paused for a moment, closing her eyes tightly, and went on when her breathing had steadied again. 

“Champion,” she said. “Of Kirkwall.”

“So the letter said,” Fenris told her. 

“Oh,” she said, and the laugh she was repressing curled the corners of her mouth. “Just wait until—Carver hears. Oh, he’s—going to be so annoyed.” 

Fenris might have said something then, but Maria smiled and he entirely forgot whatever he’d been thinking. She smiled like she had before her mother had been taken, before the months of blankness had taken her in turn, smiled like he hadn’t seen since before they’d—

“I think,” she said after a moment, that same pained laugh hiding between her words, “I am going to sleep more. But oh—what a relief!” 

Fenris had little to say to that. He nodded instead and tucked himself against the wall again in his silent vigil. She fell asleep almost at once, wrinkles of pain smoothing out again, but the curve of her smile stayed with him long after the sun rose.

[greypetrel]

Putting The Pieces Together.

A second take at this card, gently requested by @shivunin .

I tried again, and I'm happier about this version. Hanged Man helping Hanged Man, maybe they'll find a way to get down the damn three.

Tis the prompt list

The Hanged Man Upright: sacrifice, waiting, uncertainty, lack of direction, perspective, contemplation Reversed: stalling, disinterest, stagnation, avoiding sacrifice, standstill, apathy

[ Female Hawke & Fenris - mentions to Male Hawke/Fenris | 2892 words ]

In the long long list of her poor ideas, this counted possibly as one of the worst.

Because in this case, Raina wasn’t risking to fuck up her own life, but that of her brother. And as much as she knew Garrett was overtly lenient when it came to family, and overly mistrusting when it cames to everyone else… This was one he would have needed time to forgive her, and the last thing he would have wanted her to do..

That was, if she fucked up and failed.

She just needed to not fuck up, and after surviving a duel with an Arishok, how difficult could everything else be?

There was only one thing left to fix to keep the group together, and she was determined to patch that up too, since the direct interested would never have himself. Raina definitely owed this to him.

So, still strong of the card of having almost died to save the city, she checked one last time she had all that she planned on using, and exchanged a look to Beowoof.

“Are we ready, good boy?”

The mabari puffed up his chest and barked, tongue lolling out of his muzzle. He wasted no time and trotted forward, not caring if doing so meant Raina had to trudge behind him, out of shape as she was and still hurting a little. Luckily, she had stopped on the corner next of his door. The dog sat on his back legs, and started to scratch the door with his front ones. It was decided then.

Unluckily for the one inhabitant of that mansion, her brother told her where he kept the spare key for emergencies. She found the loose brick and the key behind it, and opened the front door up with little ceremonies.

Beowoof was the first who started inside, barking in greeting as he ran through corridors he had been many, many times. If it would have sounded eerie in the first months since they… Took hold of that mansion, time and habit eroded much of that impression, now.

Hawke leisurely stepped inside, closing the door behind her and slipping the key in a pocket. She was feeling good that morning: she finally had Anders' permission to start training again, she was solving a problem and helping her brother, and keeping what was left of their rag-tag group together. The skeletons he left in the foyer and the corridors too seemed to smile at her and cheer her on.

A month since the battle, Meredith still hadn’t come knocking at her door to ask for Garrett. Going to the Gallows to illustrate in details what she would have done him should he think of stopping by her house again must have worked. She could reasonably start to relax, and took Anders’ declaring her good for physical exertion as the big sign she waited. Things were looking upward, and there was just one thing left to settle, as she had promised herself she would have.

“Hey, handsome.”

She greeted, peeking into the one room in the mansion that was actually occupied, and smiling at its occupant.

Who was sitting upright in bed, hair all over and a big mabari sitting on his lap and putting his paws on his shoulders as he tried to lick the elf's face. Elf who was looking at her as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Heeeeey.” She complained. “I’m getting offended if you look at me like that. I wasn’t beaten that bad!”

It was a lie and they both knew it. He’d been helping out in the house as well, as she was recovering. He was there as she fought. Of course he knew she was beaten that bad that her being up and about hadn’t been something granted. But, she pouted still and walked in, pretending to make no notice of the chaos around her. There were more wine bottles than the usual, lying around the mess. Sun filtered down the hole in the roofing -maybe she could make something about that too.

“I thought it was-” Fenris spoke, finally, voice croaky as if he was just awake. He cleared his throat, and the next sentence came up in his usual grave tone. “How did you get in and why?”

Raina shrugged, looking around for some water. “I have to get back in shape.” She patted her belly with a loud snap. It grew softer in that month. “And not judging at all, but I think that our first exercise for the day will be taking out the trash.”

Looking at the empty bottles Fenris hadn't bothered to take out, Hawke wondered how extended was the wine collection of Danarius, if in three years Fenris hadn’t manage to kill it already. He never showed up at the Hanged Man without one, complaining that they all needed his contribution not to poison themselves with whatever poor excuse of wine the inn made them pay for. In his opinion, it should be Corff to pay them to drink that thing. Which Raina tried to ask the host to do, with sadly terrible results.

She didn’t wait to start working. She turned around once and thrice, with a loud “Ah!” As she glimpsed an empty basket in a corner to store them all for an easier disposal.

Behind her, Fenris grounded something she didn’t understand, right before a loud thud and Beowoof trotting close to her to inspect what she was doing. He snorted, shaking his muzzle with contempt when he got too close to the neck of a bottle.

“I know, buddy. You’re Fereldan too, stick to beer.”

“You shouldn’t give him beer either.” A grumble from behind her, which Raina ignored.

Instead, she quickly collected the bottles she found empty -most had some dust upon them, she noted with some relief. The basket was full and she left it beside the door, turning them to Fenris, who had found a shirt in the meanwhile and was now beside the fireplace and looking at her with a thoroughly unimpressed expression. As he tried absentmindedly to comb his hair in order with just his fingers.

“You’re welcome.” She started, faking a courtesy just for show.

“What does he want me to do?” He cut her short, still not impressed. A new line formed between his eyebrows, which was almost not noticeable under his bangs. The one at the corner of his mouth tho, that was fully there for show.

There were at least three jokes Raina could make, right there and then. She could tell him to come to the Hanged Man dress in a coloured suit, with puffy pants and stripes in bright yellow and red as she saw some bands of mercenaries from the North wear. She could pretend offence at the vile accusation and made a show upon it. Variations on the matter: three years later, she perfectly knew he would groan, roll his eyes and answer with something cutting and dead-pan. She would laugh, because it wasn’t just Garrett to find him funny. It would break the ice and let that visit be just that. A visit. A polite way of thanking him for paying her a visit when she was bed-ridden and a profession of nice intents. It was her way out.

She didn’t take it.

“Garrett doesn’t know I’m here.” She told him instead. Which was the truth, and made the crease between his eyebrows deepen further, the harsh bent of his lip harshen more. “Probably he would be so mad at me for meddling.”

“I wonder why.”

Ah, the way out. She didn’t take this one either.

“But it’s getting late and I don’t have all day.” She shrugged him off. “You can put up something more fitting for running and come with me-” Beowoof barked, with a note of reproach. “-with us-" She corrected, and the dog nodded, sitting down obediently to show he appreciated it. “Or I can just do some stretching here, since I walked aaaaaaaall the way here and mind you, it was a terrible bother, five people greeted me as ‘Champion’ and I almost had to stop and greet one particularly insisting granny on that, yuck. And then be on my merry way. Your choice.”

And with that, she unbuckled the harness from her bust and carelessly tossed it to the side. The usual daggers were replaced by wooden training ones, and they clacked loudly against the tiles of the floor, avoiding the basket full of bottles by a scarce distance. Not caring about those, Raina stretched her back, putting up her arms and pulling them up as far as she could, with a satisfying yawn. She proceeded with her stretching, as if it was the most normal thing to do, ignoring how the elf tried to tell her to stop.

In the end, when she was down on the floor, folded in two and trying to reach her feet with her hands -Maker, she was out of shape- she saw a second pair of feet beside hers, continuing up in black leggings. Another pair of hands, white tattoos contrasting on dark skin, outstretching and reaching the other extremities without that much fuss.

“The audacity!” She scoffed, putting more effort in trying to succeed too. Something in her belly pulled still, and she huffed with disappointment.

“Do not push it, you’re hurting yourself.”

“Yes, Anders."

Fenris scoffed, grumpily. Raina ignored him, both the mumbling and the suggestion, and kept outstretched for a while still, just short for her abdomen to properly hurt instead of just annoy her. Brash, yes, but she wasn't exactly an idiot, and the last thing she wanted was to get back to that bed with everyone doting on her as if she was dying.

They stretched in silence, and soon after it was Raina to follow Fenris in movement, not needing much instructions to just imitate him and what he did. He corrected her a couple of times, it was fairly awkward but she didn't mind much. They never had that close of a relationship, after all: sure, she cared about him, she wouldn't be there otherwise, but calling it a close friendship would probably be an outstretch.

And with what (whatever, Garrett told her he thought they got together but Fenris broke it up after a handful of hours, but she lacked the details) happened with her brother...

"We're at the Hanged Man tomorrow, for Wicked Grace." She casually told him. "Can I count you in?"

He was helping her up, and the sour expressin, full of suspicion that had just melted returned in full force on his face.

"I don't think I'll be wanted, there."

"Weird, I thought I just invited you."

Raina picked up her harness and walked out of the room, shrugging her shoulder off. It was still a little unsettling how silent Fenris managed to be, in a fight and there as well. Always at her back, not heard nor seen if she didn't openly look for him, but always there. Good to have as a friend in a fight, and she planned to keep him so. When he spoke again, unheard from her left and back, she was used to it not to be startled.

"Your brother doesn't want me there. I don't understand why are you here in the first place."

With all the calm in the world, reaching the salon down the stairway, she unlocked the training swords and tossed one towards the elf. He caught it, as she knew he would have. More by instinct than anything else, but the reason didn't matter much, right then.

"Hawke." He reproached her.

"You fucked up." She stated, matter-of-factly, as she put herself in a fencing position. Her side towards him, divaricated feet and knees slightly bent. "So what?"

He squinted more, not following in her clear invitation to join the fencing. "So, you're hyperprotective of your siblings, and you shouldn't be here."

She huffed, shrugging it off once again. He was right, she knew, it was the wrong thing to do. But, she still stepped forward, swaying her training sword towards him in another invitation. He didn't answer, but stayed there on the last step, where Beowoof trotted and sat down too. At the elf's side, looking very serious up toward his two-legged friend.

"I fucked up too." She confessed, as if it was nothing. She knew he knew what she was talking about. The last Wicked Grace before the invasion had been terrible, with her, Anders, Isabela and Merrill barely looking at each other in the eyes, she and Varric doing extra leaps to keep the atmosphere happy... And Raina failing spectacularly. No one told the others that something had happened, nor she had any intention of explaining the details to Fenris now. But it would have been impossible not to notice. "And I know that locking yourself in a room and sulking isn't the solution, as inviting it is. Believe me, I tried."

"You got impaled by the Arishok instead."

"Exactly! I did something about it, and now Anders talks to me again."

He considered, but the way he rose just one eyebrow told her he wasn't all that serious about it.

"I'll take the sulking."

"Beowoof, get him."

The dog perked his ears up and barked, jumping up on the stairway to precede Fenris trying to get back to the room he occupied. And barking at him in reproach as the elf tried to move around the dog.

"I'm just asking you to give me some help with my swordmanship." She continued, stepping forward again. "Nothing much, nothing less. I don't particularly want to get impaled a second time, if I can help it. I can pick up with helping you read where Garrett left it, if you'd like."

Her sword lounged forward until it poked him, right between his shoulder blades. He froze for a moment, fingers contracting in a fist against his sides. Raina poked him again. And again, insistingly. Finally, his shoulders rose and fell slowly, in a deep sigh.

"You're not leaving unless I say yes, are you?" The question was highly rhetorical.

."I grew up with three siblings, I can be pretty insisting. And annoying."

"Don't tell me."

"And you're also coming to play Wicked Grace." She remarked, poking him again.

He finally turned, with a particular shade of frown on his face Raina still hadn't met. She smiled at him, with her best shit-eating, people-fooling grin. Fenris huffed through his nose, little convinced. But still, turned on his track and finally stepped down in the salon, placing himself in the right position too. Out of habit, he used two hands on the hilt, wooden blade rose in the air towards her.

"I'm still not getting impaled to solve my problems."

"Why do you think I brought wooden swords?"

She smiled again, he groaned in all answer, shaking his head. Properly annoyed, he wasted no more time before lunging forward and starting the fight. Raina had to actually put all of her effort in it, and it felt great.

She made a promise to herself, when she realized she wouldn't have died after all. She almost destroyed her family, almost destroyed her group of friends. If she could, she would have done all she could do fix her mess and keep what she had left together.

This time it wasn't duty, it was because she wanted to.

She never had that deep of a relationship with Fenris, before: the one that had slowly approached him was Garrett. Of course she was angry at him for how he left his brother (she knew not the details but she knew her brother well enough to see that he had been hurt deeply by it). But she could relate to fucking things up.

And when she couldn't move without her stomach still hurting like hell, and left herself fall on her back on the floor of Fenris' mansion, panting heavily and accepting after a minute the towel he brought her, and the glass of water with it, she thought she had done well in taking a step towards him.

She could relate to fucking things up and hurting the people you love. And couldn't be fully angry at him.

Never would have she thought to think it, but she wished her mother was there to see her.

Taking the broken pieces of what she had wanted and broken, and putting them all together.

"You didn't impale me, after all." He was short of breath too, at the very least.

"Give me time."

"With how much you leave yourself open?" He tsk-ed. "Not sooner than a year." He paused, and continued without looking at her, with less sarcasm than before. "If you keep training regularly. With Aveline too, if you don't wish to continue with me.."

Anders had been wrong about her, horribly wrong to think she looked at him the same way she looked at Merrill. And he had been wrong about him as well. She pulled herself up, sighing, and elbowed him, stronger than necessary.

"I'll take six months." She huffed in pride, drinking her glass of water. "But I'm still destroying you at cards."

"You wish."

She really wished her mother could see her. Putting the pieces she broke together. And succceeding.

[meggannn]

A Crow Flies Down Fenris/Hawke | 5k | teen | thanks to @kesla and @meredithalden for betaing!!

The decision to leave had actually been fairly simple: Neither Fenris nor Bethany was stepping anywhere near the Inquisition and their conscripted mages and Cassandra Thousand-Name Pentaghast and that altus from bloody Tevinter if she had anything to say about it. So Hawke came to Skyhold alone.

Excerpt:

In Varric’s warm suite above the kitchens, Hawke’s fingers trailed the bookshelves over his mahogany desk. She found a copy of Tale, a first printing, and yanked it open. This chapter was about Feynriel, whom she’d sent off to Tevinter, a decision she suspected Fenris had never really forgiven. She flipped further. The beheading of the Viscount. Flip. The escape of three blood mages from the Circle, which she had delayed addressing for a week, rejecting it as a templar scare tactic to avoid falling into Meredith’s political trappings; a week long enough for two of the escapees to rack up a two-digit body count in the alienage.

Hawke told herself now that she didn’t have to sit here and think about how much better everyone in her life, everyone in Kirkwall, would be doing without her. She had better things to do. She couldn’t think of what those things might possibly be, but she told herself they existed.

Practice her longbow technique, which Sera had told her last night was passable at best. Help that Warden in the yard take care of the horses. Eat a full meal. Fucking write to Fenris to apologize, if she was going to. Stop waffling around already.

She closed the book and left the room.

[fuckyeahmhawkefenris]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fenris/Male Hawke, Fenris/Hawke Characters: Fenris (Dragon Age), Male Hawke Additional Tags: Fenris jerking off while thinking about Hawke, After they've slept together, But before they've talked, So there's a healthy dose of angst in there too, Slavery mention Summary:

Fenris can't stop thinking about Hawke's touch.

-----------------------------------------

okay, before trying actual porn, lets start with something less obvious...

Let us all take a moment to remember this lovely rendition of the fenhawke first night by adelaiderowan. One of my personal favourites I keep coming back to again and again.

If I were a little better with words I’d leave a whole lot of comments on ao3, but I really don’t want to embarrass myself. It’s just really really good.

[densewentz]

god someone help me find this da2 fic please it was f!hawke (a warrior i think) and it was fenhawke the relationship between leandra and hawke has been really shitty and hawke maybe isnt living at the estate anymore? (she might be living with fenris?) but fenris and the gang decide to stage a like intervention? in the Rose, I think, where they try to force hawke to 'reconcile' with her mom. Only Leandra just keeps saying shit to blame hawke for Carver dying and Bethany being in the gallows. and feeling extra guilty about it all, fenris ends up like, sneaking into the gallows to make Bethany respond to hawke's letters Ring any bells to anyone? I'm having major issues finding it again 😩

[echoes-sounds]

Anyone got any good solavellan or fenhawke fic recommendations? I’ll also take Abelas and Lavellan.

[bardspeak]

And if you lost it all, and you lost it | ao3 link

(Some of) Hawke's letters to Fenris during dragon age inquisition. Hawke was left in the fade here.

-

Fenris -

I’m sorry for leaving, and I’m sorrier for getting angry that you didn’t want me to. I know you want to be with me, to protect me from what’s to come. I also know that what you could most protect me from is also what could most hurt you. I can’t have that. We protect each other, right?

I’d have you with me if it wouldn’t kill me to see you hurt.

The Inquisition has been looking for me, and Varric has held them off long enough. I guess I’ll find out why it was so important for them soon, but I know for me it’s Corypheus. We were both there – and I’ll never feel safer than when you have my back – but this is a burden of my own. It was my father’s blood that locked him away and mine that set him free. I feel I should be able to know him, understand at least the little my father must have, but I’m just as clueless as anybody else. I just know I can’t sit by and watch him happen to someone else. I hope you can forgive me.

You haven’t said, but I know I’ve been hurting you. I’m not sure why I don’t know how to live without something like this to turn to, to throw myself at. But I won’t drag you into it with me. It doesn’t mean I love you any less, and it doesn’t mean my heart doesn’t ache to be away from you. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with it some of the time. When you’re just gone for the day I’ll turn to tell you when you’re not there. I love your humor, even when you’re laughing at me. I love your anger, even if you’re angry with me now. I love your happiness, and I can’t be sorry enough that it’s not what I’m leaving you with.

You’re with me, even if I didn’t let you be. I’ll be thinking about you all the time. I’ll be dumb enough to forget I left you behind. But I’m leaving my heart there with you.

Make sure nothing happens to it, if it’s not too much trouble.

- Hawke

Fenris -

Varric hasn’t gotten anything from you, but I hope you’re reading this anyhow. I know you hate letters going through him (the nosy rat), so maybe you’re waiting to say whatever it is when I get home. I hope I’m not too long to hear it.

Everything here reminds me of you, even the Inquisitor! She’s not much like you, but I suppose I see an elf glow and I get misty in the eyes. In all seriousness, she’s kind of lovely once you get past the weight of the world on her shoulders. She even got me talking – I told her a couple stories from when it was all of us, and even about that hawk I brought home once. I still have the scar from where he bit me and you didn’t even appreciate the likeness. Still sore about it!

She got me to talk about you, too. But that’s not particularly difficult. What’s the opposite of a sore subject?

Varric’s the same as always, but he seems to feel the weight of Corypheus too. I know I shouldn’t tell him to back off, but come on. That’s my burden! The blood of my father trumps being the guy who came along, in my most expert of books. He’s also in trouble with a seeker here for hiding me for so long. Well. I suppose I’ll take a punch for him, if it comes down to it. Even though he didn’t tell me that CULLEN is a COMMANDER in the INQUISITION!

I couldn’t believe it either! They let him within an egg’s throw of command again? But alas. It’s just like old times, only instead of staring in judgment across the gallows it’s across fields of burly men, or a particularly robust table.

There hasn’t been much action yet, though we’ve gone to see our warden friend. I suppose there’s more than corruption in the ranks, if Corypheus has anything to say about it. I can only be glad Carver’s still in Highever.

Blood magic’s abound, there’s a Tevinter altus (as he so insists) trouncing about the library, and I can’t step three times in any direction without knocking into a templar. But as much as I’m glad you aren’t having to deal with this, I do wish you were here. I miss you more than I can say. Maybe that’s selfish of me. Sorry. You can be cross with me about it when I get back.

I love you! I hope you’re doing well. I always hope you’re doing well.

Don’t forget to walk the dog! I wouldn’t mind if you killed a couple of snakes in my honor, if you’re already at it.

All my love

-Hawke

Fenris,

I’d have given anything to not have to send you this letter. I’d have given anything to send him back home to you. But there was no fighting this. Fighting him.

Hawke is gone.

We were fighting something impossible. The fight had dragged us into the Fade, and that’s where we left him. We couldn’t go back. You know I would have if I could. I’d have been lost right along with him if the rift hadn’t closed behind us.

He slipped from my grasp, gone before I could do anything. The Inquisitor says he stayed behind to save her, shoved her through so she couldn’t even look back, and stayed to fight on his own. He liked her well enough. They got on like a house on fire. Maybe he thought it was something we would have been proud of him for. I’d just have wanted him alive. I know you do too.

He was staying in one of the rooms and I found a note on top of the mess he’d made of his desk. It doesn’t say it, but I know it’s for you. He was wearing his token, though, so I can’t send it with you.

I’m sorry.

Varric.

I’m hoping I’ll be able to throw this away, or it might be some sort of something I bring with me when I come back home. A reminder, maybe, of how much I wish I was there with you. Something to knock me over the head with if I ever decide to leave again. I still hope you never have to read it.

I’ll do anything I can to make it back, I’m not giving up. It just seems like this gets bigger and bigger in my head every day I’m here. You know I’ll throw my lot in with anything I believe in even if it gets me nowhere good. It got me you, though, so it can’t all turn out bad.

This might be the most important thing I’ve ever done, but right now all I can think of is you. I’m still sorry for leaving you, for hurting you and not letting you be with me. I’m also sorry for being glad you’re not here. That feels like the worst thing I’ve ever done, but I know I wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye to you to your face. And you deserve that, if you can’t have a promise kept.

I’m not sure I’ve ever told you how proud I am of you. You’ve been the strongest person I've known since I met you, and you knew my mother. It’s a pretty high bar. But you don’t have to be strong all the time. You can hate me, never want to think of me again, and I’ll still love you. My heart is still there with you whether you choose to bury it or not. I’m not sure I’ll ever live up to how I wish I could love you, but I love you all the same. I still turn to tell you when you’re not here.

-Hawke

[barbex]

I'm here to give you some prompts for DADWC! First prompt is “I love you, please don’t go.” for Fenris/Hawke.

Thank you for your prompt! For @dadrunkwriting, this is part one, I have a second part coming.

--

It is wrong. Everything is wrong. Variana runs out, not even looking at him. Danarius' blood still drips from his gauntlets. He should feel happy, elated, relieved. He killed his tormentor, the mage who stole his memories, and made him suffer. But there is nothing.

"Fenris, you're free." Hawke steps closer, her voice so careful that he nearly doesn't hear her over the noise in his head. "It's over."

"How can it be over?" He glares at her, anger bubbling up like an old friend. Her magic resonates in his markings, another mage stepping closer, like she owns him. "It's never over. There's another mage just waiting to take his place. My own sister wanted to become a magister."

Hawke's hand burns on his arm and he rips his arm away, stepping back from her outstretched hand. "Leave me."

The hurt in her eyes is unbearable. Her fingers clench around nothing before she draws her hand back to her chest. "Please, Fenris, I love you. Don't go, not now." She takes a step towards him but stops when she looks him in the eyes.

"I don't take orders from you," he presses out, knowing by the pain in his chest that he will regret this. This is the end of his path. "I'm leaving. Alone."

Outside, people walk towards the market as if nothing happened. For them, it's a normal day. For him, it's the end of the life he knew. 

By the time he reaches the mansion, regret has already taken root in his heart. He hurt Hawke, his first friend. The woman who trusted him, who dared to love him, waited for him for years, and he just threw it all into her face. Like a rabid wolf, he bit the one person who never turned away from him. 

Is he just a wild wolf, like Danarius said?

He turns, running back to the Hanged Man. He pushes the door open, but he only finds a crew of dwarves and elves cleaning up. One fixes a burned floorboard, where Hawke turned a demon into ash. Another scrubs at the stain of blood where Danarius found his end. Fenris climbs up the stairs, knocking on Varric's door, but there is no answer and the door is locked.

He stares dumbly at the closed door. His friends are gone. He is alone, just like he wanted.

--

no worries, second part coming up

[gaqalesqua]

The Viscountess Hawke is much distracted from her duties of governing a city by the whims of her presentation, and Fenris is happy to help her make an heir for Kirkwall's future.

[tevintersoldier]

there's a new chapter of wicked grace im gonna cry😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️ i have been following this fic since 2015 (!!!) and the last update was in 2020 so i just assumed it was abandoned,,,,,, but now there's a new chapter🥹🥹 AAAAHHHHHHH

[shivunin]

Dragon Age Fic Recs

In honor of the Just Leave a Comment Fest, and with no particular theme, here are a few of my favorite Dragon Age Fics:

(If you wrote one of these fics and want me to tag your blog, please let me know and I'm happy to do so!)

**Always check the tags before jumping in; this list is no exception.**

Origins: 

be my mirror by ella_vellan: (T; 5,798) Alistair & Morrigan. Alistair meets Kieran for the first time in Orlais. The dialogue in this feels so well-paced and authentic, and it really navigates a fraught situation with grace. One of those fics that feels bittersweet in the most cathartic way. 

a gentle, beating heart by rynleaf: (M; 5,115 Words) Warden/Zevran. The Warden finds out she is pregnant sometime after Origins and puts off telling Zevran. The epistolary pieces of this frame the underlying story so well, and the flow of the fic itself is extremely well-paced.

A Man’s Word is His Bond by howlsmovinglibrary: (M; 35,135 Words/9 chapters) Zevran/Warden Soulmate AU. Honestly? This Surana cracks me up and I adore this fic. She is just having absolutely none of his nonsense. No thank you. Also, the implications of a soulmate-identifying mark are really well-explored here.

Dragon Age II:

see me bare my teeth for you by calypsid: (T; 2,978 Words) Fenris/Hawke vampire AU. This one has really good pacing and Fenris’s POV is really effective. Would absolutely read way more about the dynamic between this Hawke and Fenris. 

to hold you by the edges by vesperics: (T; 4,059 Words) Fenris/Hawke wound-tending set sometime in Act 1. I am a sucker for wound-tending anything, but I really enjoyed the way this fic explores Hawke and Fenris’s early dynamic and the way she navigates his boundaries about magical healing. 

River Stone by loquaciousquark: (M; 45,633 Words) Fenris/Hawke. Hawke is captured and subjected to a botched Rite of Tranquility. Hawke survives by pretending it worked while Fenris tries to find her. The pain in this fic is so delicately and thoughtfully depicted; it might be my favorite hurt/comfort fic ever. There is an art to writing something that hurts like this while still making the catharsis of resolution feel earned, and this author absolutely knows how to do it right. 

Inquisition: 

Portrait of a Man by Dulcidyne: (T; 3,136 Words) Cullen/Inquisitor. Cullen sits for a portrait. Love the dynamic of person vs. role here, and the idea of how someone is depicted potentially outliving who they actually are. A fic I would hug if I could. 

Truth-Telling by todisturbtheuniverse: (M; 3,988 Words; CW: Fantasy Racism) Adaar/Josephine. Adaar tells several stories about how she lost her horn, but saves the truth for Josie. There are so many great pieces in this about the faces shown to people we trust vs. people who pry for information. Love the almost-but-not-quite together state of their relationship here, too. Yearning, my beloved. 

Port in the Storm by kvella: (E; 89,445 Words/19 Chapters) After nearly hooking up, Cullen and Josephine navigate their tensions while trying to build a memorial for Haven. A lovely slow burn! Characterization is enjoyable and consistent, smut is well-written, and the tension is palpable. The sections involving Josie’s family were some of my favorites.

[andorerso]

I should not write a Dragon Age AU I should not write a Dragon Age AU I should not write a Dragon Age AU