Chapter Text
Fenris stood outside Hawke's bedroom door. Everything in him screamed to not listen, that eavesdropping was wrong. But he couldn't help himself.
He had come to apologize. For the past two months, he had been plagued with regret until finally, it became too much. He knew his words had hurt her. He had been a coward. Fear at what he was feeling, fear that it would all be ripped away from him the moment Danarius found him, combined with the impression of terror left behind by his residual memories, made him run. The memories had been fleeting, insubstantial almost. Not being able to retain them was almost more painful than the impressions they left behind. The only thing that made it bearable as the event settled in his mind was the feeling of helplessness and terror they had left in their wake was the memory of Hawke as she lay in his arms. But even of that he had allowed his fear to rob him.
He had been a fool. A coward. Tonight he had come to apologize, to ask for her forgiveness. But the conversation he heard through Hawke's door, open just a crack, made him stop dead in his tracks.
He was too late. She had moved on.
Still, despite his misery, he couldn't help but remain still, listening to the conversation that damned any hope of happiness he might have had, had he not been such a coward.
"You need to tell him, Raine," Anders' voice was emphatic.
"No. He made himself quire clear already."
"You've known you've needed to tell him for over a month, now. What is keeping you from this?"
"It's none of your business."
"It is. And if you don't tell him, I will."
"You will not!"
"Yes, I will. And don't look at me like that. You know I'm right. He needs to know."
Hawke sighed in resignation. "Fine..."
"I know, love," Anders' voice was tender. So was the hand that reached up to caress Hawke's face. "I know. It's not easy. But I'm here for you." He gently folder her into his arms, reassuring her everything would be alright. Fenris looked away, unable to stomach the sight of Hawke wrapped in the abomination's arms so tenderly. "Now," Anders' voice was closer to the door. "I expect you to tell him tomorrow. Or I will."
Fenris' heart sank as he hurried for the stairs and out the door. It would not do any good to be caught listening. He had heard what the abomination had called Hawke. He had called her "love." There was nothing left for him here. He had ruined any chance of that that one night two months ago. What burned more than his regret was his rage that the demon was forcing Hawke to flaunt their new relationship in front of him. The thought of that, of Ygraine being bullied in such a manner, angered him in a way he never felt possible. He never would have been so callous towards her. No, he thought, he would just run out on her in the middle of the night, telling her the whole thing had been a mistake.
And now he was paying the price for his cowardice. From what he had heard, they had been together for a little over a month. That meant the two of them had gotten together shortly after that night Fenris visited and had taken her to bed. How long did she really wait, he asked himself? Bitterness and jealousy welled up inside him. He should have known better than to trust a mage with his heart.
The hypocrisy of these feelings did not escape him. Who was he to have expected her to wait? He was the one to walk out. He was the one to say it had been a mistake. Still... The thought of her in the abomination's arms burned him. He was not lying to himself. He knew if it had been anyone else, he would still have been jealous. But for it to be the demon, that galled him.
*****
The next day, Fenris found himself reluctantly entering the Hanged Man. He had wanted to stay home, to avoid seeing Hawke at all costs. He dreaded the pending conversation he knew she was going to initiate, and seeing her would only make his misery more real. But it was Wicked Grace night and his absence would be noticed. Besides, he would rather be there, surrounded by the company of others. Maybe it would make the coming confrontation less angry, maybe even shorter as he was sure Hawke wouldn't want others to overhear, or to see any discomfort between the two of them. There were those that were, after all, insatiable gossips among their group. Maybe being in their presence would lessen the threat of things blowing out of proportion.
Who was he kidding? By the end of the night, Raine had not approached him. He was, however, sufficiently drunk, having drank more than normal in his anxiety.
Finally, having grown tired of waiting, he folded, laying his cards down on the table and excused himself. As he got up from the table, Hawke called out to him before he could reach the door.
"Fenris! Wait up. I'll walk home with you."
He sighed, dreading what he knew to be coming. Still, he waited just outside Varric's door.
"I'm sorry," Hawke said as she caught up to him. "I..." she hesitated, fumbling with the cuff of her robe in an uncharacteristic manner. "I actually needed to talk to you," she finally said.
Seeing her so uncomfortable, so unsure of herself, was his undoing.
"Hawke," he said, trying to catch her attention from where it was still focused on her shirtsleeve. "Hawke," he said again. This time her eyes rose. They were full of conflicting emotions. Fear. Uncertainty. Sadness. Mostly fear. Knowing that he was partly the cause of her conflicted state hurt. More than that, he was angry with that damned abomination for forcing her into this position. She was free to do what ever she wished, and she owed him no explanation. If she wanted to sleep with a demon, who was he to stop her. He had given up the right to be concerned the moment he walked out on her. Everything was all the better for it anyway. At least this way, she would not be considered as a target for Danarius to use against him. They would both be spared the pain of that.
"I already know," he said, trying to keep his anger in check. There was no need for her to continue with this if she was so uncomfortable with the situation. If he settled it with her before they left Varric's, then she would not need to suffer the discomfort of walking back to Hightown with him. Let her damned abomination walk her home instead.
"You... You already know," she asked, her eyes wide with fear.
"Yes," he answered.
"How?" Her vice was small, hesitant.
"I was there last night," he continued. "I had come by to talk when I overheard you and the abomination speaking."
"You know?" She was bewildered.
"That is what I just said," Fenris snapped, cringing at the sound of his voice. The last thing he wanted to do was take his anger at himself out on her undeservedly. "I overheard everything."
"And that's it?" she asked suddenly angry. "That's all you have to say?"
"What more do you want me to say?" he replied, his own anger finally breaking through. "Do you need my permission? Do you want my blessing? I am not your master, Hawke," he shouted. "Do whatever the hell you like. We've already established I'm no longer a part of your life."
Without waiting to hear her response, Fenris turned and left, stalking away angrily, leaving her standing, silent outside the door to Varric's room.
Hawke couldn't move as she watched Fenris walk down the stairs and out of her life for the second time. Only this time, it was for good. He had turned her away. If she hadn't been a part of the conversation, she would never have believed him to be so callous, so selfish. Yet here she was, abandoned by the one man she needed most to help her in her current situation. A gentle hand on her shoulder brought her out of her misery. Blinking back tears she didn't even know she had been crying, she turned into the comforting embrace of Anders.
"What am I going to do?" she asked. "I can't do this on my own. I just can't."
"You don't have to, love," Anders said softly, gently stroking the back of her hair. "I'm here. If that mongrel dog won't take responsibility for what is his, I will. I won't let you go through this alone."
Hawke sniffled against his coat. "But you shouldn't have to."
"Shhhh, love. It'll be alright. I promise," he continued to stroke her hair. "It may take a while, but it'll be alright, eventually."
She nodded. Straightening up, she wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Thank you. But I don't want to be a burden."
"You're not. I promise," he replied. "Now, not to add more pressure, but when are you going to tell the others?"
"I don't know if I can."
"You'll have to eventually. You do know they'll figure it out on their own once you start to show?"
"I know," she answered, looking down, her hand straying to her belly. "But not tonight. I... I can't do it tonight. It's too painful."
Anders nodded. "Let me walk you home."
"Sure," she said. "Thanks."
*****
Fenris stood, hidden in the shadows of the courtyard outside Hawke's estate. Conflicted between anger, resentment, and sadness, he watched as the abomination gently embraced Hawke, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear before letting her go. There was a sad smile on her face as she nodded in response to something he said. As the mage turned to go, Hawke called out to him, asking something Fenris could not hear. Whatever the question was, it was answered by Anders following Raine into her mansion and shutting the door, but not before he turned and looked in Fenris' direction.
Fenris' shoulders sagged. He had truly lost her. There was nothing now he could do about it. She belonged to someone else. Feet as heavy as his heart, he shuffled back to his own rundown home, hoping that there was at least one bottle of Danarius' best wine left in his cellar.
*****
Anders left Hawke's home through her cellar, the key to her basement safely tucked inside his robes. The two of them had come to an agreement that with the current situation, it would be best if he didn't have to stalk through all of Darktown and Lowtown just to get to her house if he was needed.
When he finally reached the solace of his clinic, he barred the doors. Justice raged. Lightning sparked from his fingers, dancing across the room. Vials shattered, tables exploded. If he ever saw Fenris in the near future, he would be a dead man for putting Hawke through this.
*****
Late into the night, Ygraine lay in bed, silent tears soaking her pillow. Never before had she felt so utterly alone, so despondent. Not when she lost Bethany. Not even when she lost her mother. Death was a part of life. It hurt, and it was cruel. But never was it this cruel.
Gently, she ran her fingers over her belly, trying to take comfort in the knowledge of the new life that was growing there. Only that comfort was hollow now that its father had rejected her, rejected it without so much as a thought or a backward glance.
Anders was right. She would have to tell the others soon. It wouldn't be long before she began to show, and she would have to stop taking jobs. At least until after the child was born. But she would worry about that later. For now she couldn't do anything but hurt. Next week would be good. Or maybe the week after. She wasn't sure when, but it would be soon. Then the rest of her child's crazy, mismatched and hobbled together family would know of its existence.
*****
Fate, however, is as fickle and as cruel as death, twisted in its own designs.
Three days later, a letter from the Viscount arrived, followed closely on its heels by a quarreling Isabela and Aveline.
*****