anywayhereskirkwall | OVERFLOW

( continued from here )

It takes a while for Hawke to adjust to the sudden mood change, all caught up in the bliss of kissing Fenris after they'd been apart for so long. He blinks a few times, waiting for the blood that had rushed down below to return to his head, and then--

Oh. Oh shit.

He sighs, forces his one-track mind back to the present. There's shit he's got to answer for, and he won't be getting any action until he does, so... time to get serious. Too bad he's utterly incapable of doing so.

"Well of course I missed you!" he says with a short, incredulous laugh that probably isn't helping his case any. "It wasn't as if I were on some holiday, sharing a pint with crazy Wardens high on blood magic. I didn't want to leave, love."

The laugh, if anything, infuriates him more, and something hard and painful rises like bile in his throat. Of course he knew Hawke wasn't simply gallivanting all over Thedas without him. He had read the letter, read Varric's subsequent ones that had come to reassure him Hawke had arrived safely at Skyhold - but that had been weeks ago, now, with no further update.

And now this. Now they're finally reunited again, after weeks of anxiety building day after day and poisoning his heart, and Hawke has the fucking gall to laugh at him.

"THEN WHY DID YOU?!" He screams, voice edged with anger and hurt. "Give me one good reason why you felt the need to leave me behind without even bothering to ask me what I want? You didn't even give me the chance to try to understand why you thought you had to do this alone, but instead removed any ability for me to choose for myself!"

Shit. Maker, he's terrible at this.

The hurt in Fenris' voice makes Hawke's heart ache, and the stunned incredulity disappears from his expression at once. He keeps his hands hovering in a sort of surrender, a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"Red Lyrium," is his answer. "Fenris, it's everywhere. It has poisoned the Templars beyond recognition. I've seen what it has done to those who ingest it, but you, your markings? I don't even want to think about what it could do to you."

It's as sincere as he gets, and it's all for Fenris. He'd never show such vulnerability to anyone else. His light-hearted nature hasn't left the conversation, though.

"I knew if I left, you'd follow me," he adds, the corner of his lips lifting just a little. "You're terribly stubborn, love. You'd have thrown yourself in the line of fire to protect me, and while I find that extraordinarily noble and I daresay quite flattering, I couldn't allow it. Not this time."

The explanation does little to stop the fine trembling in his hands, curled tightly into fists at his side. Beneath taloned gauntlets his knuckles are white, hard and tense with the effort to hold together whatever composure he still has.

"What made you think I would be any safer without you?" he bites, fighting the words past the tightening of his throat. "Don't you remember what I told you? Nothing is worse than being without you. Nothing would keep me from you."

His voice wavers, the urge to reach out for him again almost too strong to resist. Fenris swallows hard, trying to ignore the burning in his chest, forcing his breathing steady. Had those words meant nothing?

"Did you really expect me to stay behind like an obedient dog, where I could just as easily fall victim to the very thing you feared?"

Because in the end, what would have prevented Red Templars from finding him anyway? How could any place other than at Hawke's side be safer for him?

"Was this truly what you preferred?" Fenris asks bitterly. "To have me die far away from you and alone rather than at your side?

Fenris' voice guts Hawke, cuts him right down the middle. Unlike Hawke, who dances around every subject with humor and wit, Fenris goes right for the throat. It leaves him reeling every time, makes him question everything about himself. It's why they don't fight very often, but it's not like they need to.

Until now, apparently.

"Maker, Fenris!" he roars. "You were far better off kept away and safe compared to where I went! I was in the desert fighting crazed Wardens--Wardens using blood magic, raising demons for Corypheus, mind you--and then I was attacked by an archdemon and thrown into the Fade with the Inquisitor and Alistair, physically I might add. Physically, Fenris! No dream-walking this time, we were there in our damn meatsacks, all of us! I faced a Fear Demon who preyed on all our deepest vulnerabilities, and do you know what it told me, Fenris? After it threw a swarm of bloody spiders at me?"

He steps a little closer, his face desperate, imploring. "It told me Fenris is going to die, just like your family. It knew. And that's it, isn't it? I'm an idiot, I wasn't thinking when I left, Maker, when do I ever think about anything? I just knew I needed you safe. Because I can't lose you."

For a man who would rather sink his bare fingers into darkspawn guts than open up emotionally, this is the most raw he has ever been. He throws up his hands in a gesture of defeat, a sort of helpless shrug that conveys what little grasp he has on all of this, letting out a humorless laugh.

"The demon was right. I'm terrified, Fenris."

Edited 2019-04-03 18:27 (UTC)

Hawke's scream forces a hard flinch down his body, paralyzing him for a few moments as his vision begins to blur. Fenris blinks hard to keep it at bay, to force the curling, sickening feeling in his stomach back down away from his throat. The longer the list of things he's had to face without him grows, the greater the knife twists in his chest.

Silent tears finally slide free, too numerous for him to hold back any longer. The only other evidence is the way his chest heaves a little harder as he struggles for even breaths, years of conditioning to conceal sobs and other signs of crying beyond tears never having quite left him, particularly when frightened or upset.

Fenris stares at Hawke, jaw tight and sealed shut with anger and hurt, broken only by longing.

"You aren't the only one who is afraid, Hawke," he says, quiet at first. He swallows, but it does nothing to remove any of the emotion from his voice.

"I could have been with you." Louder, now. "I should have been with you, at your side through all of it. If I had been there the demon couldn't have used me against you. Without you, I had no way of knowing if you were even still alive. The thought that I might never see you again, never touch you or kiss you, and that you had left me without even saying goodbye-"

He cuts off with a hiss, taking a step back as his eyes sting sharply, more tears spilling down his face.

"You were afraid to lose me, but for these last few weeks, it felt nearly as though I had already lost you."

As soon as Hawke sees those tears, it's over.

"Shit."

Any semblance of anger that he'd harbored is gone in an instant, any snappy retort he might have had on his tongue dead in its tracks. Fenris steps back and Hawke doesn't let him put any distance between them, easily covering it with his much longer strides as he approaches the elf instead.

"Shit," he says again. "Come here. Fen... Maker, love, I'm so sorry."

He opens his arms, the action raw and almost helpless, a complete surrender. It's a well-practiced routine-- Hawke gives Fenris the reins to meet him halfway, to cross any distance between them at his own speed. Hawke will never coddle Fenris or treat him like he's fragile, but will always empower him to give only what he wants to give.

So when he reaches for Fenris' face to catch those tears in his hands, he's fully prepared to be shoved away again, for their distance to widen once more. Even if it'll kill him inside.

The step forward chasing his retreat forces him to step back again, arms held out in front to block any further advance automatically. Fenris swallows down the brief, sudden panic that had risen in his chest at being pursued, but his pulse takes longer to slow.

It's easier when Hawke stops, and as much as he wants to step into that embrace, he can't just yet. Even if it's all that he's wanted and dreamed of and ached for for weeks, it suddenly feels too much, nearly like the first time they had been together-

But no. It isn't quite that. More separation now would do neither of them any good, not when it had hurt so much to wake and find him gone, when he had spent weeks searching for him.

He can't go to him yet, but pushing him away now would be even worse. Fenris holds very still as calloused hands touch his cheek, eyes closing and expression crumpling into grief.

"Don't you understand what you mean to me?"

It's very much like approaching a frightened animal, though Hawke would never say that out loud. He holds back when Fenris flinches, slows his approach, takes it easy. The elf doesn't recoil from his touch, so Hawke just gently cradles his face in hands that could crush a jaw so delicate in a second if he so wished. He'd never thought they would hold something so precious in all his life, and he'd been the greatest of fools to take it for granted.

Never again.

"If it's anything like what you mean to me," he replies softly, "then I think I understand quite well." He quirks a little smile, an encouraging thing. "But between the two of us, you've always been the smart one. I was an idiot to leave you behind."

There's a bitter surge of doubt, a paranoia that brings a foul taste into his mouth. He wouldn't have left you behind in the first place, a poisonous voice whispers in his ear. It's grown far too familiar, and even now, even with Hawke finally right in front of him again, it's still there.

Slowly, nearly hesitantly, Fenris curls one hand around Hawke's wrist. The only gesture of affirmation he can make at the moment.

"You were," he agrees tiredly, raising his gaze to stare into those eyes, his voice quiet. "Don't you ever do it again, if you wish for me to be there when you return."

OVERFLOW - PRISMATICA

TDM - Fenris

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