5 Works in Fenris Character Study (Dragon Age)
Listing Works
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Summary
His memories still return only in snippets, a single puzzle piece at a time, and difficult to form into a whole picture. Whatever Fenris mourns, it has long been gone. Apart from the rift between him and Hawke, it's all from another life.
And regretting pushing Hawke away cannot compare to the anguish she feels now, with her mother's murder fresh on her mind and guilt fermenting in her gut for being too late to prevent it.
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Fenris introspection as he tries to navigate through being a real person with free will and forge new memories with any hope of keeping them, and then as he clumsily attempts to help Hawke through her grief.
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Better This Way by Quillful (QuillfulWriter)
Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age - All Media Types
05 Feb 2025
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The entire situation would be easier if Hawke hated Fenris for leaving him with so little explanation.
A/N: There's no dialogue in this piece, fyi.
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Fenris has a unique, troubling, and wholly inappropriate reaction to Hawke's magic.
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Touch by aquamarignis
Fandoms: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
06 Dec 2020
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His body has always been but a tool. His master's to command, not his own. But Hawke, instead of claiming it all to herself, keeps giving it back to him.
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You Sleep, I'll Keep Watch by jawsandbones
Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
25 Jun 2020
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Hawke and Fenris talk, post killing Danarius.
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He stands alone, and all else seems so very, very far away. Voices, footsteps, every single noise seems to blend into one, a cacophony of sound. Blood drops from his fingers, onto the already stained planks of the Hanged Man. Drop, and red petals bloom wide. There are people moving around him, he knows, and doesn’t react when one bumps into him, apologizes. It’s as if he’s watching from behind, a ghost of himself. Separate from his body, from all that tethers, until she gently places touch at his arm. “Fenris,” she says. He turns his head, slightly, white wisps of hair crossing his forehead. His gaze remains fixed on the floor. “What were you thinking of doing?”