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Fenris watched as Hawke flung her arms around Anders, and felt bile rise in his throat, which he irritably tried to simultaneously swallow and ignore. He tried to remind himself that Sylvia was generally an affectionate person and that she was prone to hug her companions in greeting.
And yet…
There was a part of him that loathed the fact that she did so. He also hated that he felt that way. So Fenris hunched his shoulders, bit back his feelings, and stared intently at the contents of his tankard.
The evening proceeded as normally as it could when the ragtag group of friends gathered at the Hawke manor for their weekly card games - Varric telling stories, Isabela being accused of cheating at least once, Aveline sighing in exasperation...And Hawke. Hawke, constantly smiling and asking questions, always genuinely wanting to know what had happened to them since she last saw them.
It was that care for her friends and companions that Fenris loved the most about her, he decided. With his only solid memories being of his time with Danarius and everything else since, her tenderness was a welcome relief. A ray of sunshine in an otherwise bleak world. It made her unlike any other mage he had thus far encountered.
Although he tried to stop himself, he always found himself drawn to her blue gaze. And every time he made eye contact, she would always offer up a bright smile. And every time, it sent a surprisingly pleasant thrill through him.
After their fourth round, Sylvia pushed back from her chair and declared that she was going to get some more food and drinks for everyone. As she left the room, Fenris watched her progress, though he ended up not being as discreet as he thought.
“Oh, Maker. You’re in love with her.”
Fenris blinked, and glanced up at where Isabela was now standing beside his chair. “Of course I’m not,” he finally replied.
Isabela opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Varric snorting a little in amusement.
“Yeah, and nugs’ll fly, Broody. I’ve seen enough lovesick fools to know what it looks like.”
“You haven’t taken your eyes off her alllll night,” Isabela added, leaning down and wrapping an arm around Fenris’s shoulders. “You can’t fool us.”
Fenris tensed at Isabela’s touch, but shook his head, both in denial and as a distraction. “It isn’t like that.”
“Then what is it? Another means of your dislike of mages?” Anders quipped.
Fenris glared at him, but said nothing in response.
“I think it’s sweet,” Merrill piped up after an awkward silence. “Maybe if you get together, you won’t seem so lonely anymore.”
“You and Hawke both deserve happiness,” Aveline added, her voice soft. Judging by the flicker of pain that crossed her face, her advice came with some deeper meaning that she was unlikely to share with the rest of them.
Fenris let out a heavy sigh of annoyance. “Quit pestering me about it. I told you that I’m not in love with Hawke.”
“Methinks you doth protest too much,” Isabela hummed smugly.
He rolled his eyes, still refusing to say anything.
“What are you all talking about?” Sylvia had finally returned with a couple more bottles of wine and one of Leandra’s spice cakes stacked upon a tray.
“Oh, I was just complaining about why I have a hard time writing my romance serials,” Varric fibbed. “It’s just so hard for me to understand the characters when they refuse to admit their feelings to each other,” he added, shooting a very pointed look in Fenris’s direction.
Fenris tried to ignore him.
“Ah…” Sylvia said. She frowned a little, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she believed them, but she said nothing on the matter. She instead set down the tray upon the table, and looked around at them. “Now, whose turn is it to deal?”
As they resumed their seats and proceeded to play another round, Fenris found himself obsessing over what the others had said to him. Was he really in love with Sylvia Hawke?
He glanced up at her once more, just in time to see her laugh at one of Varric’s jokes, her head thrown back and her face alight with amusement. He felt as if his stomach flipped over itself, and he knew he had his answer.
The mage sitting across from him really had stolen his heart.