Archive of Our Own

Written for the Dragon Age Reverse Big Bang 2014 and inspired by the wonderful Fanmix: "Run Boy Run - A Fenris Remix" by Satine86 [Listen]

~~~

He was a fool. He had been on the run for such a long time. The muscles in his legs were trembling. He was so exhausted that standing still was difficult. He needed to move again, needed to get going. He knew they were still behind him. He had to go on.

After taking a long and deep breath he moved on, towards the stony, cool walls of city in front of him.

Kirkwall. The City of Chains.

What a joke. Of all the places he had ended up here.

But he saw a tiny glimmer of hope on the other side of those giant walls. If he were to make it across the Waking Sea, he would eventually be able to get enough miles between him and his owner. Eventually the search for lost property would become too costly. Then Fenris could stop and rest.

But right now he needed to shake off the group of slavers that had been tailing him halfway through the Free Marches. Fenris cursed his own ignorance over and over. As if hiding alone somewhere in the wilds had been a good idea to begin with. He should have been more careful.

Perhaps the vast City of Chains would help him to lose the slavers. Sure, he would stand out like a halla on a horse farm. People were bound to notice him. But maybe he could confuse the hired mercenaries long enough to find a ship that would carry him to Ferelden.

Ferelden had taken a strong stand against slavery. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to find some peace there. A distant dream. But it was enough to keep him going.

~

Kirkwall was dirty. It smelled of rotten wood, alcohol, sweat and other things Fenris didn’t want to think about too much.

It was already late evening. The sun was setting behind the city walls. A lot of people were outside on the streets, most shoveling their way towards an inn after a long working day. On more than a few occasions Fenris had been shoved aside. As he walked a busy street, unsure of where to go, he got shoved aside. He carried on, not giving it much thought. Then another shoulder hit him, this one belonging to a grim looking old man. He had hardly time to catch his breath, before another human ran into him. It went on like this. He felt like a ball on playground. Then a tall and obviously drunk young man nearly ran over him.

No one seemed to pay him any more attention. He was just another dirty, barefooted elf lost in a human city. He bit his lip and tried to control his rising anger, forcing down the urge to push people aside with his own arms. But every shoulder that shoved into him made him wince and soon he was wishing that he had never entered Kirkwall.

~

In the end, when he had walked around Kirkwall for hours, he found a small back alley. He didn’t want to stay there, but exhaustion washed over him and his legs gave in. Huddling against the nearest wall, he rested for the first time in what felt like days. He had no idea if it was safe, if someone had been trailing him. He was reluctant to fall asleep. He could be caught far too easily.

But he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. His head sagged and he was asleep in an instant

A pair of brown eyes were staring at him, accusing him. They were brimmed with the hurt caused by a deep betrayal. For a split second the dark pupils widened, before the fire burning inside was extinguished.

The eyes didn’t close. They continued to stare at him with a dull emptiness. Fenris let go of the body, let it slowly sag down in front of him and bedded it carefully on the wet grass.

“Come now.” A cool voice from behind cut through the ghostly silence of the scene in front of him.

He swallowed, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around. The woman lay on the ground next to him. Her blood began to soak the ground at his feet. The warmth of it felt eerie and unreal.

“Are you deaf? I said move!” Something cracked behind him. The broad side of a sword hit him flat across his back and knocked him over. He landed on the body. It was already starting to feel cool. But it shouldn’t be cold. It should be as warm as it had been a few nights ago, when she had comforted him after he panicked, after he had first received first proof that his owner was chasing him. It should be as warm as it had been, when he had lain with her a week ago.

He struggled to sit up.

Her eyes were still open. She continued to stare at him and he couldn’t bear it anymore. He staggered to his feet. He wanted to run. He turned, but something cold grabbed his foot. He looked down. Nihara’s cold, bloodless hand held him around the ankle. She sat up and opened her mouth.

Why?

Fenris sat up with a loud gasp. Cold stone was pressing against his back. His feet weren’t touching soaked ground anymore. At first he couldn’t tell where he was. His back and legs ached terribly and he felt a deep chill in his whole body. He pulled his legs up and grabbed them with both arms, bringing his forehead to rest on his knees. He was breathed small, white clouds into the night air.

He trembled in the cool of the Kirkwall night. Calming down wasn’t easy. Nihara’s eyes still haunted him.

He had killed her.

One wave of his owner’s hand and two accompanying words had been enough to murder the group of people who had tried to protect him. They had nursed his wounds. They had given him food and shelter. They had shown him kindness and affection.

And he had murdered them. A crime for which there would be no forgiveness.

Slowly Fenris raised his head and looked around the dirty alley. A faint glimmer of red tinged the sly. Dawn was approaching. Soon the streets would be filled with life again.

With unsure, painfully slow movements he stood up. His stomach hurt. It wasn’t plain hunger anymore. The cramping in his body prevented him from standing straight. When had he last eaten? He had picked some berries from bushes that framed the main roads through the Free Marches before he came to Kirkwall. And before that? He couldn’t remember. Food had never been a problem. He had been fed. His owner needed him in good shape, so he made sure Fenris got enough, even if not the best. While other slaves were occasionally starved as means of punishment, Fenris had only occasionally experienced hunger. It was usually his master’s pupil who would deny his meals. But he had never gone more than a day without something to eat.

Later, the Fog Warriors had shared their bread with him. After that, he had been able to get food in the villages he had passed during his escape. He had looted enough coin from the bodies of his Master’s soldiers that he didn’t have to steal anything.

Before he reached Kirkwall it had become harder to come by. The slavers had nearly caught up with him and he couldn’t afford to spend any more time in villages, where he could be trapped far too easily. Luckily he had learned which berries and roots were edible from the Fog Warriors, and it had been enough to keep the hunger at bay.

But now the pain in his stomach made it hard for him to move.

He limped forward. Maybe he could find an inn. He still had some of the looted money. Maybe he could even find shelter for a few days with it.

He looked back once more. That he had just slumped down in a dirty alley was disgusting. He hoped it wouldn’t happen again.

The main streets were already busy with people, even this early in the morning. Some looked disapprovingly in his direction. He must look as dirty as he felt. At least they kept away from him, and he wasn’t shoved around like the evening before.

He had no idea which part of Kirkwall he was currently wandering around, but it seemed to be one of the not so wealthy districts. Elves were mingling frequently with humans. All of them were wearing rather shabby clothes.

Fenris sighed with relief when he saw the sign of a small inn at the end of the street. He doubled his pace, working against the stiffness in his knees.

The doors and windows to the inn were open and Fenris could hear the murmur of people inside when he got close. The smell of fresh bread greeted him and his mood lifted a bit.

He tumbled through the door and looked for the innkeeper. He saw someone storing plates away in the back and made to walk over when a broad hand clasmped around his shoulder and stopped him.

Fenris jumped, knocking the hand from his shoulder. He grabbed for his sword swiftly, ready to draw it any second and stared at the middle-aged human in front of him.

He was taller than Fenris and his clothes were dirty and torn. The man didn’t falter and met Fenris’s stare with angry eyes.

“First, refugees that steal our food and now an elf just walks in here. Get lost, you dirty son of a whore. We have no room for the likes of you.”

Fenris swallowed hard. The shock of the unexpected touch was quickly replaced by anger that was hard to control.

Another man stood up from the table. He was shorter than his friend, but looked at Fenris with the same disgust.

“Oi, your pointy ears not good for listening? No entry for elves and refugees. Move it.”

Fenris looked around. People either stared at him with the same mixture of disgust and hate or looked demonstratively away. The hand that had come to rest on his sword hilt twitched. A few drunkards were no match for him, even in his current state. But he couldn’t afford to draw any more attention.

He let his head sink and turned to leave. The men said something behind him which he didn’t catch. The whole inn was filled with laughter. Fenris’s shoulders sagged more deeply and he left the place without a backward glance.

Outside, he looked at the busy street and realized that he had never felt so lonely. He wondered if he could make it any further.

“Them guys in there giving you a hard time?”

Fenris looked around and saw a dwarven girl loading crates onto a wagon. Her auburn hair was tied in a short tail and, although sweat ran down her round face, she stopped briefly and smiled at him. Then she loaded another crate.

Thrown from a hostile scene right into the warm smile of a homely dwarf, Fenris wasn’t sure how to react. He wanted to shrug and move on, but the girl dropped the crate on the wagon and spoke again.

“You sure not looking so good. You alright? Here, I was about to take a break now anyways. Wanna join?” She produced some dried ham and bread from a bag on top of the wagon.

Fenris didn’t want to accept the invitation. But his stomach was still cramping painfully and made the ham and bread look like something out of a fairytale. He hesitated, torn between running away and sitting down with the girl.

His hunger won and he approached the dwarf, sitting down next to her, but leaving more than enough room between them.

The girl never lost her smile and cheerfully handed him a piece of the bread. “Name’s Fela. Nice to meet you.” She extended her hand. Fenris stared down on it, tightening his grip on the piece of bread instead.

Fela giggled. “You sure not a talkative guy. Too bad.” She took a bite from her bread and chewed heavily. Fenris watched her uncertainly. He wasn’t used to cheerful behavior and, ever since he had escaped from Seheron, he wasn’t used to people offering to share their meals with him either.

“Come on now.” Fela gulped down some more bread. “You look like you faint if you don’t start eating now. I want none of that.”

Fenris took a small bite. The bread wasn’t fresh, but it tasted better than anything he had ever eaten. Soon he was taking as big bites as Fela, gulping down one after the other.

Fela nodded approvingly and handed him some of the ham.

They ate in silence. Fenris was so focused on his meal that he completely forgot about the events at the inn and the other noisy people on the street. When they had finished, Fela handed him a small bottle of ale. “Careful though, it’s the good dwarven stuff.” She toasted him. Fenris started to feel a bit more relaxed and mirrored her cheerful gesture.

Fenris took a sip and discovered that Fela was right. It was the ‘good’ dwarven ale. But it left a warm feeling in his mouth and belly. Content, he leaned back against one of the crates.

Fela was watching him. Her gaze was more intent than before. “So, what’s your story? You’re also running from the Blight?”

His eyebrows shot upwards. A Blight? He wasn’t sure he was following what the girl had said.

“I mean, it’s obvious you’re running. But you don’t look like no Fereldan elf to me.” Fela took another long sip from her bottle. “Well then, where are you from?”

Fenris took a heavy breath. He didn’t trust the girl, but he couldn’t stand up and leave either. “Tevinter.” That was all he said, his voice quiet and hoarse.

The girl stared at him with eyes that grew bigger and bigger. Fenris flexed his hands, readying himself to jump up and leave the scene fast.

But then her gaze softened and she smiled at him. “Then you sure came a long way.” She handed him another bottle. “No wonder you look so exhausted. Have some more to drink. And then, you come over to my house. Rather small, but I’ll be traveling this week and the next. Business trip.” She giggled about her own joke. “Anyways, you can stay there as long as you like. Get accustomed to Kirkwall or move on from there.”

Baffled Fenris looked at Fela. His first impulse was to stand up and leave right away. But he didn’t. She seemed earnest. Maybe this was a chance he should take. So he nodded slowly. “Thank you. I’m… I’m Fenris.”

Her smile was reflected in her green eyes. “Nice to meet you, Fenris. Oh, and if you need anything. My brother‘s just around the corner. His name’s Anso.”

~

A few days passed by, and Fenris came to believe that he had made it. He settled in nicely with Fela. She wasn’t home most days, but even when she was, she insisted that Fenris wasn’t a bother and should stay.

She didn’t seem to expect anything in return, but Fenris tried to make sure he helped her whenever he could. Even if it just meant keeping the house clean.

He didn’t have to constantly fight for his own freedom and started to relax. He used his free time to scout out the city. He had been in Kirkwall before. His former master had dragged him everywhere with him. But he had only come to see a few places, the ones Danarius had chosen to visit.

He walked over to his former master’s mansion a few times, but it stood empty. A part of him wanted to smash the door and tear the place apart. But that would only force him to flee Kirkwall as well.

He trained his patience. Danarius was bound to come to Kirkwall at some point. Then he would kill him. He would tear through his chest and smash his heart with the powers his former master had infused into him.

He would be free.

~

“I don’t know the details either, boy.” The dwarf was waving his hands dismissively. “I just know that there’s bunch of Tevinter guys out there asking for a glow-in-the-dark elf.”

Fenris sighed and, frustrated, kicked the chair in front of him over. Anso picked it up hurriedly. “Oh, by the ancestors. Stop it.”

Fenris felt the all too familiar anger creeping through his bones. He knew they would catch up to him eventually. He thought he was prepared, but thinking about it now, he realized he was still alone. He wouldn’t stand a chance against a group of mercenaries coming to attack him within a guarded city. He had been foolish.

He took a deep breath and looked at the dwarf in front of him. “How many?”

“I don’t know for sure. Looks like it’s a whole group of mercenaries. Mayhap a dozen or so? Seems like they brought a Magister with them as well.”

Fenris started to pace around the room. Fear was starting to mix with his anger. His knees felt weak and it was getting harder to breathe.

Everything had worked out so well. He was finally thinking of himself as a person. Thoughts of his former owner didn’t pop as often into his mind anymore. He had even come to believe that he would be able to live a normal life, although he knew Danarius was bound to catch up with him. He had just been to ignorant to prepare himself. Instead he had been drifting around in a peaceful, fantasy life once more.

How could he have been so stupid?

~

The following night held even more surprises for him. After he had calmed down, he had come up with a plan. Anso had even been willing to help him, although it had taken quite some time discussing possibilities. Anso was a nervous type, so it was more than surprising that he agreed to help.

Later that night Fenris was faced a group of four people, a dwarf, a woman of the City Watch, a tall man with blonde hair and their leader, Hawke. Something about that person in particular drew Fenris in. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but maybe it had something to do with the bright, brown eyes.

Fenris was surprised that Hawke decided to help him even further. Together they stormed Danarius’s mansion.

But it was to no avail. Danarius was gone and Fenris’s hope of freedom shattered.

He was furious, but most of all terrified of falling into the hands of his former master again. He couldn’t let this happen.

He was leaning against the walls of the mansion, looking up into the stars, wondering what he should do next. He should probably repay that Hawke group somehow. After all, they had put some energy into helping him.

When Hawke exited the mansion with a warm smile, Fenris had to take a deep breath to steady himself. He wasn’t sure how the other managed to capture his attention so easily. Fenris suspected it had to do with natural charisma. He had never met someone like Hawke. That much was certain.

~

When they talked alone in the mansion a few days later, Fenris was surprised by Hawke’s genuine concern about him. This was new to him, although Fela had shown compassion and looked after Fenris in her own fashion. But with Hawke it was somehow different.

Strange as it was, before long Fenris was looking forward to accompanying Hawke on various, rather crazy, journeys.

A whole year passed, and his plans for crossing the Waking Sea and moving on to Ferelden were almost forgotten. Fenris had even started to feel a bit at home, although the thought of Danarius would still haunt him like a shadow from time to time.

But Hawke was there. Hawke listened without judging, taking the concerns Fenris brought up seriously.

Occasionally Fenris wondered about the funny feeling that would settle in his chest when he talked to Hawke. Usually he was able to disregard it quickly enough though.

~

More time had passed. Fenris wasn’t sure anymore how long it had been. He was drifting again, waiting for Hawke to call him and enjoying the company. It had been enough for Danarius to try once more to get his ‘property’ back. When the slavers attacked, Fenris had nearly lost it. Even Hawke had hardly been able to calm him.

And then everything on that day really went out of hand. It was his fault, of course. Pure hate flowed through his body when he faced Hadriana for the first time in years.

He couldn’t let her go. He needed to kill her. But when her blood ran down his arm, it didn’t felt like relief. When he saw the shocked faces of Hawke and the others, he couldn’t bear it anymore.

He turned and ran. He was so tempted then. To not return to Kirkwall, but to instead march on suddenly seemed like a good solution.

He wandered around the Wounded Coast for hours. It was pure luck he didn’t run into any bandits. The night grew too dark to wander any further. His legs were aching again and, due to the darkness, he had cut his feet on more than one occasion.

His thoughts circled around Hawke. He couldn’t leave. He had to get back.

~

One of the dwarves who were lived in Hawke’s home opened the door. Fenris nearly stumbled over him and sat down, stupefied, when he was informed that Hawke hadn’t returned yet. Fenris hoped nothing bad had happened. He should have stayed with them.

He waited in the antechamber, unable to shake off the feeling of Hadriana’s warm blood on his arm.

~

Hawke returned an hour later, looking beaten and exhausted. But those brown eyes lightened up when they met Fenris.

Fenris winced. He hadn’t exactly expected a warm welcome. Hawke always surprised him, and Fenris was struggling for words again. He wanted to apologize and explain his behavior. But somehow he wasn’t able to get the words out in the right order. It was irritating.

They started to argue.

Fenris wanted to run again. He couldn’t deal with Hawke’s way of trying to understand him. He had been afraid of rejection when he came over. But the sympathy was even worse. How could Hawke possibly understand any of this?

A hand on his arm stopped him from leaving. Cold anger clenched around Fenris’s guts and he turned around in fury. He pushed Hawke back. For a split second he almost lost all control over himself.

His mind was blank when he let go and stepped back. He had never wanted this.

The next second was a confused silence between the two of them.

Then Hawke grabbed him, shoved him against the next wall, and kissed him. Fenris’s head was spinning, unable to make sense of what was happening.

But he was responding to the kiss, leaning into it, pulling Hawke closer.

~

Hawke was sleeping, when Fenris woke from another dream. Irritated he crawled out of the bed, looking down on Hawke for a long moment. Fenris was breathing heavily while his mind tried to piece together the bits and pieces of his dream.

He had seen the face of a woman, but now he couldn’t remember what she looked like. She had been close to him. That much he could tell. A warm feeling was tied closely to her.

Other places and people had been woven into the dream, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t figure them out either.

He let out an annoyed huff and got up. Clothes were scattered everywhere and for the first time Fenris understood what had really happened tonight. He wasn’t ashamed. Confusion made his head spin.

With shaking hands he gathered up his clothes and dressed. He should have left then, but looking on Hawke’s sleeping face, he was unable to head through the door. Somehow Hawke was refusing to let him go without even being awake.

Fenris turned around and leaned against the fireplace. The fire was still crackling. He knelt down and put some more wood on it. At first the flames got smaller, as if suffocating. But they gnawed through the fresh wood, charring it along the way. Before long the flames were shining brighter than before.

Fenris continued to stare into the glow. Whatever he had remembered in his dream wouldn’t come back to him. It was hopeless.

He had been so close. Finding out about his life before he became ‘Fenris’ could give him actual meaning and he had just lost it.

Then Hawke was awake.

They argued. Or rather Fenris argued, not willing to accept Hawke’s compassion. How could anyone understand what his life really was like?

He saw the resignation in Hawke’s face, knew he had just busted every bit of happiness with his stubbornness. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to be with Hawke.

But his head was still spinning. He could hardly contain the contradicting emotions that were making his knees tremble and his hands clench into fists.

He left. It was all he could do. He had been on the run for so long that he didn’t even know how to stop anymore.

~

Fenris wandered the streets of Kirkwall without paying attention to his route. His head was hurting. The events of the day that had proceeded this night had been hard to cope with.

If things had played out differently, Fenris could have been captured again. He could be sitting in chains on a ship bound for Tevinter right now.

The thought made him stumble over his own feet. He steadied himself against a wall. One deep breath, then two. He still didn’t feel better.

He heard soft steps behind him and was half afraid Hawke had followed him here. He didn’t want to be seen like this. Not by Hawke of all people.

The steps stopped and Fenris was surprised to hear a soft, female voice behind him: “That you, Fenris? Gosh, you know how to scare a girl. What you doing here in the middle of the night? Haven’t you moved up to fancier parts of Hightown?”

He recognized the voice. It was Fela. She came up beside him and touched his hand.

“You okay?” When he didn’t look up, she squeezed his hand. “Fenris, what happened? You’re scaring me truly.”

He carefully pushed himself from the wall. “I’m sorry, Fela.”

He hadn’t even known she was in town. And he hadn’t realized that he had stumbled through half of Kirkwall to stop in front of her house.

“Come now,” she said. “Let’s get you inside. This night’s so cold. I have some ale to warm you up.”

“The dwarven one?” He asked with an audible crack in his voice.

“Of course, the good, dwarven one.”

~

“Goodness, Fenris, you are so thick, you know that?” Fela’s cheeks flushed a deep red as she emptied her bottle of ale with one long gulp.

Fenris’s bottle remained untouched on the table, but he hardly felt any different from being drunk. His head continued to feel funny and his hands wouldn’t remain still. He was struggling. Even Fela’s presence didn’t calm him down.

And he didn’t need Fela to tell him he was a fool either. He knew that well enough.

He continued to stare down at the table. There was nothing left to say for him. He was exhausted.

“Seriously, Fenris.” Fela continued without the slightest hesitation. “You get this chance. This one big chance of… of a… of a lifetime, damn it. And you almost blow it.

“Listen, I know it’s hard. It always is. You’ve been running and running. But you can stop now, you realize that? There’s a person out there who killed a group of slavers to keep them from taking you. I know it’s hard to grasp. But that Hawke is offering you this chance. Possibly the only chance you’ll ever get in the next time.”

“I… I know. Or at least I think I know.” Fenris’s head sagged deeper.

“Then why you’re sitting here with me? You should be over in Hightown.”

“It’s not that easy. It’s bloody complicated. And too fast. Too damn fast.”

“Is it? Listen, Fenris, lemme tell you about your two options. You can go now. Continue running and leave this city. You’ve always wanted to go to Ferelden. The Blight is over. This is your chance. You might even shake them slavers off for good.

“Or you stay and take your chance. You don’t need to rush things. I bet that Hawke person’d be willing to wait on you. Eventually you’ll clear your head and thank me afterwards.”

Fela nodded to herself and grabbed for the bottle in front of Fenris. “And I don’t think you be needing this anymore.”

Unmoving, Fenris continued to stare at her. Fela rolled her eyes and took another deep gulp of ale. How such a small woman was able to drink so much and keep it together was beyond Fenris. If he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have probably commented on it. But right now he felt frozen into place, unsure of what Fela wanted him to do.

“Get moving, you skinny moron.” Fela waved her hands at him. “I swear I’ll drag you out on your stupid ears.”

~

Fenris hadn’t expected that Fela would put her threat into practice. Absentmindly he rubbed his still stinging ear and felt more than a bit humiliated.

Despite his exhaustion his feet carried him swiftly through Hightown and he was soon standing in front of Hawke’s door. He had no idea how much time has passed. It must be early morning already, maybe dawn was already approaching.

He hesitated. Maybe he should wait. If he woke the whole house now just to apologize, he might earn more scorn than forgiveness.

He turned around. He should get back to his place. Perhaps smashing a few more bottles would clear up his head and let him form a proper apology. It might even help him to understand how he truly felt about Hawke. He shouldn’t rush things now.

When he entered his mansion something felt odd. He was sure he had left the door to the small room he had made his main living quarter closed. His pulse quickened and he grabbed for the sheath of his sword. But when he had climbed the small stairs, he let go of it. Sure enough there was an intruder in his house, but the intruder was Hawke, soundly asleep in one of the chairs.

Fenris was baffled and his first thought was an angry one. But he quickly checked himself. Taking a deep breath, he gained control of his anger. What was it that Fela had said? Someone brave enough to cope with your moods for such a long time…

Fenris couldn’t help the smile that ran across his face. When he walked around the chair, Hawke woke and blinked at him.

“You’re back? Sorry, I didn’t want to break in, I just wanted…wanted to make sure you were okay.” The voice was quiet, almost ghostlike.

Fenris took a deep breath. He knelt down next to Hawke. “I’m sorry, Hawke. I…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

”I know, Fenris. It’s alright. You don’t need to... need to apologize for anything. Just, please, let us stay friends.” Hawke’s voice was pleading. It was hard to bear.

Fenris moved a little closer, his hands coming to rest on Hawke’s knees. The intimacy of it was something new for him, but he tried to suppress the resulting uncertainty and pushed forward.

“Maybe we can be more than just friends, Hawke. I… I care about you. More than I have ever admitted to myself. I can’t promise you I won’t hurt you again. I’ll try to do better from now on. I’ll try to keep my anger away. I’m sorry it came to this. Maybe we can find a way to be together.”

A smile was Hawke’s reply, followed by a long kiss on his forehead. It was a promise that they could work this through.

His one chance. He wasn’t going to waste it. Not this time.