#the scars that stayed longer than any his marks she’d held onto as Fenrys just told us in the most heartbreaking conversation

[acourtofquestions]

“Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay. She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?" Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.”

[hawke-tethras-2020]

Just Stay With Me

Fenris/f!Hawke

pre-any-sort-of-relationship and sfw

Inspired by this post

Read on AO3 here

Hawke made her way across Lowtown, careful not to make eye contact with anyone she passed. Night had settled over the city, and the full moon illuminated the cobbled street in front of her. She tugged the hood of her cloak over her eyes as she passed a small crowd of people. She didn't have her face adorned with her typical swipe of red. She was anonymous. A night like this, calm and bright, usually meant that the thieves and blood mages stayed in whatever holes they usually crawled from. Instead, the streets were littered with beggars, children in rags, their mothers and fathers past the point of desperation. Hawke stopped here and there and pressed silver coins into the kids' outstretched hands. It never felt like she could do enough for all of the people in this town. She liked to help people -- even if she didn't always do it in the best way -- but her heart tugged even more than usual when she saw a child with a dirty face and a distended belly. Hawke shook her head and tried to put it out of her mind. She couldn't do anything to help all the children of Kirkwall tonight; it would have to wait. She pulled her hood off, fixed a grin on to her face, and slammed open the door to her destination for the evening -- the one and only Hanged Man. Her friends were there already, gathered around a large table. Hawke watched for a few moments as they passed drinks around and joked with one another. A genuine smile reached her eyes as she took them in, the merry band of misfits she had brought together. They looked like a family. Nowadays, they even felt like a family. "Always have to make an entrance, Hawke!" Varric shouted at her from across the room. "Oh, you know me," she called back. "Drama. Suspense. Mystery." She made her way to the table. On her way to her seat, she clapped Anders on the back and ruffled Merrill's hair. It was only when she moved to sit down did she recognize that the one empty chair left for her was right next to Fenris. "Hello, Hawke," he said, his voice calm and smooth as ever. In the cacophony of clinking bottles and shouting voices in The Hanged Man, Fenris' voice was a refuge. "Ready to lose? Again?" Fenris chuckled at his own joke, a quirk that Hawke found so endearing she thought her heart might give out. "Me? Lose at Wicked Grace? You must be joking." Hawke rolled her eyes and tossed her coin purse onto the table. She leaned back in her chair, hands behind her head, and winked at Fenris. "Deal me in, Anders." Hawke was, in fact, horrible at Wicked Grace. Two hands in and she'd lost three sovereigns, owed Aveline two bottles of wine, and somehow lost a bet to Isabela that involved switching living quarters for a week. By the end of the night, a flush brightened her cheeks and her grin was easy, not forced. Despite everything that happened since she arrived in Kirkwall, at least she had these people around her. "Alright, fearless leader," Isabela slurred to Hawke as the group packed up. "Go enjoy your last night in that comfy mansion of yours. I'll be there to take over at noon sharp." Hawke laughed and rolled her eyes at her friend. "Aye, Captain," she teased. She waved at the group and made her way to the door, more unsteady on her feet than usual. Maybe she'd had more to drink that she thought. She shook her head and fixed her eyes on the door, determined to make it outside without stumbling. "Want company on your way back to Hightown?" asked Fenris. "We are neighbors, after all. As you so often remind me." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Sure," she responded, "I wouldn't want you to get lost." They walked out together, and cold air bit at Hawke's ears. She furrowed her eyebrows at the feel of it and drew her cloak closer to her. 

"Not a fan of the cold?" Fenris asked. They fell in step together towards Hightown. Hawke shook her head. "There's a reason I'm always shooting fireballs out of my hands," she joked. She was well past the point of feeling awkward about being a mage around Fenris. Since she had moved to Hightown, and especially since the day she started to help him learn to read, they had formed an easy, even comfortable, friendship. Not to say that Hawke's other feelings towards him had gone away -- in fact, they had swelled so much that she got a lump in her throat every time she spoke to him -- but she respected him too much to say anything about it. He didn't need a woman throwing herself at him. He needed trust and stability. If he felt the same way, he would say something. She hoped. They wandered through the streets of Kirkwall and discussed the state of the Carta and the increasingly tense situation with the Arishok. She was never more at ease than when she was with him. Even as they spoke about the issues they were facing, the very issues that put their lives on the line day in and day out, she felt calm. In what seemed like minutes, they approached the entrance of her home. Everyone would be asleep by now; Leandra, Bodhan and Sandal weren't people Hawke would describe as exciting. She looked up at Fenris and an overwhelming sense of longing washed over her. She didn't want this evening to end. Before she could even think of a clever way to spend more time with him, he spoke up. "Well, we didn't have to kill anyone on our way back." "An improvement from most nights," she replied. "Should we celebrate with a nightcap? I have to wash the taste of the Hanged Man swill out of my mouth before I can sleep." Fenris' face broke into a crooked smile. "Lead the way." Hawke and Fenris climbed the stairs to her sitting room. She poured them each a glass of whiskey and handed Fenris' to him before she plopped down on the sofa. She patted the cushion next to her, inviting him to sit down. He settled in closer to her than she thought he would. Her breath caught in her throat, and she prayed that he couldn't see the sweat start to bead at her brow. "Hawke," he said, abruptly, and sat his drink on the side table. "Can I --" he cleared his throat. "Can I try something?" He had lowered his voice, and the syllables of each of his words were rhythmic, almost musical. Hawke caught his forest-green eyes with hers. She searched there for something, though she didn't know what, and fought the urge to make a joke. (italics)Not the time, he's serious,(italics) she berated herself. Instead, she nodded. "Let me see your hand," he said, his voice closer to a whisper now. She was mesmerized. They were facing each other, both of them cross-legged. She tugged her one leather glove off and balanced her hand on her knee, palm up. She wondered if he could tell she was shaking. His eyes darted from her bright blue ones, to her hand, to her eyes again. With precision and assurance, he stretched his long, slender fingers out towards hers. She watched them, watched his tendons strain underneath taught skin. Before she knew it, the tips of his fingers met hers, and he brought them down to stroke her palm. He slowly, delicately, laced his hand with hers. The touch of her skin on his made the lyrium glow, faint but pulsing. Hawke's breath grew shallow, the desire she felt for him crawling through her belly and setting fire to her chest. She fought the urge to kiss him right then and there. Instead, she let his hands explore hers. First he was tracing her palms, then the backside of her hands, both of them. He kept one of his hands locked with one of hers, but let the other run up to her shoulder, up her neck, tangled in her hair for a split second, then back to her face to cup her chin. Hawke held his gaze, then, as his hand so tenderly, cautiously, held her chin. "Does it hurt?" she breathed. She didn't want to break the careful balance they had struck this evening. Hawke knew, now, that he at least somewhat felt the same was as she did, but she didn't want to push it. Fenris shook his head. "No. Only a little." Hawke looked down at his lips, full and parted, and then back into his eyes. "Can I try something?" she asked. "You can say no. I don't want to...to make you uncomfortable." Hawke was sure she never felt so vulnerable in her life. He nodded. His eyes never left hers. Her hand fell to his knee. She felt her eyes shut. She leaned in and kissed him. It was fleeting, but it was everything she hoped it would be. She felt her face flush, and she gripped his knee tighter than she meant to. His hand clutched at hers, and the hand that had cupped her chin now ran to the nape of her neck and tugged at her short black hair. The kiss lasted only a moment, but Hawke never felt so blissful in her life. When it was over, they sat there, on Hawke's sofa, and Hawke took in Fenris' expression. "Was that okay?" she asked. "I'm sorry if I --" she was interrupted by his voice, now truly a whisper. "Do not ever apologize for that, Hawke." He said it to her as if it were a secret. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Good. I'm not sorry at all." He smiled, too, but he began to pull back from her. His hand left her neck, and he inched away so that their knees were no longer touching, but he kept his other hand intertwined with hers. "Don't go, Fenris," she breathed. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of his absence. "Just stay with me." They sat there, on Hawke's sofa, as Hawke traced tiny circles on Fenris' soft brown skin, a spot where no lyrium marks scarred his flesh. They fell asleep like that, and did not stir until dawn broke the horizon.