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My Heart Made Wise	By : CarefulMimicry Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2143 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Three years ago Fenris ran. He had just ripped out the heart of a hated, vile woman and, when that didn't solve all of his problems, he had yelled at Hawke and run. Hawke, to his credit, had not stopped him, had raised a hand as if to speak but had simply let the breath out as a sigh as Fenris had stormed out of the room.
Three years ago Fenris had abandoned the only friends- no, the only family he had ever known and yet they had not abandoned him. Hawke's presence right at that moment was proof of this.
The other male stood before Fenris, pressing a heavy volume into his hands. He was saying... something. Fenris was too busy existing in a state of disbelief at the Champion's presence that he missed the other male's entire speech. His furrowed brow and delicate grip on the leather-bound book, as if it might bite him, seemed to clue Hawke into the fact that Fenris had missed something.
"Books... You read them? Surely you've heard of the things."
"Yes, Hawke, I have heard of books. I was a slave, not a lackwit." His tone was, perhaps a bit too icy, too sharp because he saw Hawke visibly flinch, his face twisting into a grimace.
"Well I got you one. It's about Shartan, the leader of the Elven slaves who joined Andraste's rebellion."
Fenris gave a soft sigh, even after running away, even after the cruel introduction upon his return, Hawke was nothing but soft-spoken, kind, hopeful. It was as though he- Fenris stopped himself. Hawke did not care about him. Why should he? What was so worth caring about?
"I am aware of the story, it is the method in which you have delivered it that I am unfamiliar with." At one time he might have been embarrassed to admit that he could not read, when such things came so easily and simply to his companions. After his years in isolation he realized he had lost much of his shame. He had been a slave, they all knew, slaves were not afforded many luxuries. It would not be a surprise that reading was certainly one of them.
Hawke took a moment to process what Fenris had said, sorting through his words to discover their true meaning. Fenris did feel just a twinge of anger as, when the realization finally dawned on his mage friend, his eyes flashed just a moment of pity.
The two began to speak simultaneously-
"I do not need your pity, Hawke, I am-"

"Then I guess I'll just have to teach you."
Fenris paused his rant mid sentence, "What?"
Hawke shrugged as if it were the easiest thing in the world, "I'll just have to teach you." His old smile crept onto his lips and Fenris wasn't quite willing to admit that his heart did absolutely just flutter. But the momentary weakness was hidden by a quiet clearing of his throat.
"That is quite unnecessary. I do not wish to waste your time."
"Oh please, no time spent with you is time wasted!" Hawke had said it with a light laugh and flip of his hand but when his bright, blue eyes met Fenris' sharp green ones they both paused, the room suddenly going still and silent, the air feeling so heavy.
Fenris was suddenly acutely aware of just how close they were. They were but a foot apart, one of the mage's gloved palms flat against the book in the elf's arms, pressing it against his chest as if he might reject something so precious and rare. His other hand, that damned appendage with it's strong but somehow nimble fingers, was resting just so on his shoulder.
If he closed his eyes he could almost feel the heat from the Champion's hand seeping through the leather glove, the spiked metal armor and all his layers of clothes beneath. Fenris' breath was perhaps a bit too heavy as he imagined that hand much closer to flesh. Hawke, for his part, seemed transfixed, standing frozen in this moment, this moment that was stretching into eternity here in the mage's living room.
And suddenly the guilt was washing over him. Guilt for running away, guilt for putting them all in danger, guilt for not believing they were kind enough or strong enough to handle whatever his former master could dish out. He needed to apologize, he needed to say something needed to break this tension, to let Hawke know how sorry he was, how much he wanted to take it all back.
"Hawke," the scruffier male blinked a couple of times, eyes never leaving his, "Hawke, I'm so-"
"The door was half flung open as a disheveled and agitated Anders strode unhesitatingly across the room. Immediately Hawke jerked away from him and Fenris wanted to growl, want to snatch those hands back and make Hawke listen. It was that or thrust his hand through the blasted abomination's chest and rip his corrupted heart out for so carelessly interrupting.
"Here you are! I've been looking all over Kirkwall for you."
"Fenris did feel a small smirk of satisfaction cross his lips when Anders paused, if only for a moment, when he saw the elf's presence. "I need your help, if you have just a moment?" Hawke looked at Fenris and gave a small 'well what can you do?' shrug and light roll of his eyes. The action ripped through Fenris' lithe frame, a gesture just for him. A little moment that was just theirs, something for him to cling to, to hold close to his heart and cherish.
"Hawke turned slowly, "Well, we can continue later, I'll meet you at the library this time tomorrow, okay?" Fenris just nodded, glaring down Anders as he brushed almost viciously past the other mage and out of the Amell estate.
Fenris wasn't sure of much after these long years apart, but the one thing he did know for certain was that, as a freeman, it was okay to want. And, Maker above, he wanted Hawke.
He wanted the man, and he would have him.
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My Heart Made Wise