Chapter Text
He had learned to trust. It had been a slow, torturous lesson, but he had learned it. And it was all thanks to that one woman, the one who had always helped him, had always believed in him, and had always lent her ear when Fenris needed to vent.
Hawke was indeed a woman of destiny. Not even Varric could truly tell a tale that would showcase even a speck of the true heroic, just actions of the woman. Slavers cowered in their beds, blood mages fled from her, and even the Qunari would pause before attempting to deal with this female. Savior of would-be slaves everywhere, and occasional collector of torn trousers, Hawke was the heroic idea to the letter.
This woman…this was the one who loved him, if not in words than in her actions, certainly. Though they were not officially together, Fenris wore her red scarf on his wrist, and the crest of Hawke’s house, proudly. This was a woman that the former slave not only respected, but adored in his own quiet way. They needed no words to understand each other; she read him just as easily as he read her.
Which made it all the more confusing and distressing when Hawke handed Fenris back over to Danarius without a thought or comment.
“Hawke?”
The woman was ignoring him, instead offering his former master a smile.
“Hawke…if I’ve done something to upset you, please tell me. There’s no need for this,” Fenris begged quietly. The Abomination was there with them, the only companion that was free that day to tag along.
Surprisingly, he was silent, eyes wide as he stared at Hawke. No snide remarks, no carping on about anyone’s freedoms, just silence and what looked like disbelief in his eyes. His dream was probably coming true, Fenris thought bitterly. The mage-hater of the group would be gone, and he would have Hawke all to himself…
“Hawke! Please…I need you.”
Fenris, at that moment, realized that he did indeed have a true heart, full of unvoiced emotion and fears, and right at that moment, it was in danger of falling apart under such frantic beating.
“Enjoy your property, Danarius. I certainly did.”
Fenris heard no more after that, so loud was the sound of his world, his heart, breaking.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Anders had first been shocked, then elated when Fenris had been given back to Danarius. The bane of his existence, a terror to any mage anywhere, was out of the picture. Fenris had always been bad tempered, had always refused to listen to the reasons why mages should be free, and had annoyingly followed Hawke (the woman Anders had spent years aching for) around like an adoring, blood thirsty puppy. Honestly, Fenris was more of an abomination than he was: he ripped peoples’ hearts out at the behest of no demon, to quote the hypocritical bastard himself.
And yet, here he was, losing sleep over the prickly elf.
Anders.
“Justice,” the mage greeted aloud. They were along in the clinic, the door barred, so he stood little chance of receiving odd looks for talking to himself.
“Odd that you’re talking to me. This hasn’t happened in a while.”
It is because we are both at odds with the current situation.
“Oh? And what situation would that be?”
The Singing Elf. You claim happiness at his return to slavery, but it is an unjust thing; Fenris has been loyal to not only his bedmate, but to you as well. Loyalty punished with such a crime is wrong, and must be righted at any cost.
Odd. Justice and he had been intertwined, for the most part, ever since they joined together. And ever since then, Justice had been demanding retribution for the mages more and more. Yet Anders couldn’t fail to notice that around the elf, Justice seemed…tempered, almost. Certainly not happy or gentle, for that was not a facet of Justice at all. But still…
Whatever. It was out of his hands now; Fenris was gone for good.
“He was in the way of our mission,” Anders sighed. “Hawke has been accepting more and more Templar assignments from the Knight Commander. Fenris no doubt had influence enough to sway her to do this.”
The Singing Elf had his opinions, voiced them, and then would do whatever his leader decided, whether it was to help or detain the mages. You are blind if you think Hawke had no will of her own. She has always leaned towards the Templars…especially after the tragedy with her sister in the Deep Roads.
“You would think with a sister and father as mages, she would be more inclined to help us,” Anders grumbled. “You think now that Fenris is gone I could seduce Hawke and put her on our side?”
That would be a waste of our time, idiotic, and cruel; none of which I have the patience for, as you well know.
“Kill joy.”
A question for you, Anders?
“Shoot.”
Hawke was not the only one you desired, was she?
Anders blinked up at his ceiling, mulling over the question for a moment.
If you ignored the mage hating tendencies, and a frightening eagerness to stick his hands where they shouldn’t belong, Fenris was very desirable, even with all that pent up hate. He was easy on the eyes, but what made him wank worthy to Anders was that even though he was an elf and a former slave, he was strong. Sure, he easily wielded a sword that was as long as he was tall, but he also refused to cow, to bend beneath the expectations that others placed on him just because he was who he was: a former slave, and an elf. That drew Anders more surely than anything else; a twisted, corrupted version of a kindred spirit, of sorts.
Maker, it didn’t even make sense in his own head.
“No,” Anders sighed at long last. “No, she wasn’t.”
Even though he was a distraction, that did not validate what happened. You MUST avenge him.
“Justice, I am on a schedule here,” Anders snarled. “And between Hawke’s adventures, Templars trying to break down my door, and the Grand Cleric being her stubbornly neutral self, I barely have enough time to work on the Manifesto, let alone eat and sleep.”
Sleep is for those who have nothing better to do.
“Aha, but what about food then?”
The Blood Mage takes care of those needs for you. Next time you see her, would you please pass on my compliments of her elderberry pie? It was…Divine.
“Justice, did you just make a joke?”
I do not joke Anders. And I am serious about Fenris. We should right it straight away.
“What about the mages here?” Anders asked. “Am I supposed to up and leave them to chase after a single person?”
Justice did not answer. Anders eventually fell into a fitful sleep, his dreaming full of desperate pleading voices, terrifying blood magic, and heart-broken green eyes.