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Never Where You Expect [C], Hawke
Posted: May 23 2018, 07:11 AM
His stomach growled and that brought him to semi-consciousness. Groaning, he curled himself deeper beneath the old blanket and groggily cursed the draft seeping through the thin threading. Squinting from beneath the blanket, his unfocused vision let him see he’d woken in time for late afternoon.
Sluggishly, he rose from the straw bed and staggered along the stonewall to the bars. Struggling with some balance, Fenris sank against the wall, and hummed as he faced the sun, gathering the blanket back around him. Warmth radiated into his back and his bare feet thawed.
His cell was recessed into the wall and one of two in the mage’s laboratory. It was a busy but tidy room; full of liquids in odd shaped glassware and apparatus’ he didn't have the first clue as to their purpose. She kept herbs and shelves full of books and at least three personal notebooks. The large table was used for dissections or ingredient preparations. Fenris wasn't entirely sure what she was always doing with the occasional carcass or when she grabbed a pestle and mortar, but she did occasionally bring him out to prod him and make his tattoos burn hot enough to bring him briefly to full awareness. Last time she’d muttered something about not being able to activate the phasing. He had never even dreamed he would be an experiment again.
He blinked blearily as his head dipped forward, and he was awake again. He shifted to get more comfortable, and his foot scooted the plate of food left for him. Fenris wrinkled his nose, hating the small reminder that he was being kept like a wild animal. A wild wolf. He scoffed at his own thought.
His stomach growled again and he fixated on the plate. She didn't leave him poor food, but curse that woman. Fenris was sure she was drugging him somehow, because he slept for extended periods of time then what was normal. He didn't even remember when this plate was brought and there was no way he was naturally sleeping so deeply when she came and left so frequently. He even slept through when she spent hours in here. The heaviness made it hard to think, to activate the lyrium, to plan escape...
Fenris started as he had begun to drift, head bobbing. His tongue was annoyingly dry. There was water…
He jolted again, but this time because he heard the lock turning to the lab. The sun had shifted, now only basking half his body.
The mage woman walked through, red curls bouncing around her shoulders and chattering to someone behind her, obviously. She gestured toward the fireplace on the western wall, framed by the windows letting in the sunshine. “Have a seat. Oh, I’ll start the fire!”
How hospitable, he thought sourly as she conjured a fireball in her palm and cast it from across the room, and Fenris closed his eyes, nearly immediately drifting. This was none of his concern.
Shadows falling over his eyelids stirred him, and the woman was before him with a worried pinch in her brow. Fenris wrinkled his nose and turned his head away.
“Please eat. It’s much nicer if you do it freely,” she said, in Tevene.
“Freely,” he grumbled back at her, in her language. “She says, from outside the prison she put me in. You mock me.”
She sighed. “I’ll have something fresher brought.”
“Keep it. Or eat it yourself. You’ll waste it on me.”
Posted: May 29 2018, 09:09 AM
This was bloody stupid. Sparrow didn't know where in the Hell he was but it certainly wasn't home. He’d bitched about it for days to himself, getting nothing but a low chuckle that seemed to echo in his ears. It was disconcerting and sobering. Part of him had wanted to believe that it had been a dream, a nightmare, but the presence that seemed to be all around him, whispering into his ear, proved that it wasn't. Was this what Anders had gone through? Part of him understood the other mage now, but that didn't stop him from wanting to stab him in his stupid face.
Sparrow raised a hand to scratch at his stubbled chin--more of a beard now than stubble--and followed the strange, bubbly mage into her home. He'd quickly realized that she was Tevinter, and not at all worried about using her magic in public, and he’d taken a chance. She had seemed all too eager to help him with his little problem. Sparrow knew that he should probably been more hesitant, something this good couldn't possibly be true, but he was desperate and desperate men did stupid shit. Like follow a tevinter mage down into her chamber of toys.
The mage nodded his head absently as she instructed him to find a seat. Sitting would be nice. It felt as if he'd been on his feet for weeks, constantly on the move and dodging people he knew. Which was surprisingly easy to do since no one seemed to be around. Trying to communicate was a headache he didn't want to have. It was like talking to a child. Andraste's tits, he didn't know if he was cranky or if it was the demon’s influence. Probably both to be honest.
Sparrow wasn't even paying attention to the mage as she wandered around, too caught up in his own mental ranting to notice the other figure behind metal bars. It wasn't until he heard that voice that Everything suddenly snapped into reality. His breath caught in his throat and he was on his feet, the chair falling back with a clatter. It couldn't possibly be. Surely it was just his mind playing tricks, or that fucking demon trying to toy with him--she was desire after all--but as he came closer he felt as if he'd been sucker punched.
A breath left his lips harshly, and he gripped the metal bars of the cell hard enough that his knuckles became white. The metal itself groaned and bent slightly in his grasp, as the air itself began to bend with the force of his magic.
”Fenris, Sparrow breathed the elf's name. It was him, Maker, it was him! The mage's gaze snapped to the other mage, Aelia she had said her name was, and grit his teeth.
”Let. Him. Out.” It was hissed viciously between his teeth, and anger snapped in his dark eyes. The metal bent more as his magic intensified, gravity itself reacting to his will and twisting with his anger.
Posted: May 29 2018, 01:34 PM
The clattering behind Aelia made them both turn to the sound. When she moved back, the sunlight went into his eyes and he blinked rapidly. “Sounds like your guest might be breaking things.”
He sat still as the boots approached, and his ear twitched at the tempo at which they stepped. Then his eyes widened, because he could recognize that gait and shadow outline a mile away in moonlight.
“Hawke…?” Fenris didn’t quite trust his eyes. He’d slept too long, dreamed too much, experienced too many oddities in the last weeks. Abandoning blanket, he grasped the warm metal bars and hauled himself to his feet. He swayed, heavy in his bones and his vision darkening as he became light-headed. Stood up too quickly. Kicked the plate by accident. Vision slightly canted, Fenris wrapped a hand around Hawke’s, and then reached through the bars to touch his forearm. Real. Solid. Fenris pressed his forehead against the bars. “Hawke,” he said again, certain and a small smile on his lips.
“You… know each other? Is he yours?”
The air buzzed, and Fenris recognized magic immediately. He pulled his arm through the bars as he saw them begin to bend in front of his nose. To be safe, he stepped backward from the cell door and leaned against the cold stone for support.
“Let him out? Why? ” Fenris almost pitied the mage woman.
“Because otherwise he’s going to tear off the door himself.”
“There’s no need to harm my cells. Look,” she stepped forward, hand reaching toward Hawke as if to ease him. She had bravado, Fenris would give her that. “If he’s yours-”
“I’m no one’s.” Not in the way she meant.
“-we can work an understanding. He’s made several attempts to kill and escape. Can you risk that?”
Fenris rolled his head against the cell wall. “I think he can.”
“Shush. He talks a lot for a slave.” This directed at Hawke.
Posted: Jun 28 2018, 01:32 PM
Fenris’ hand against his skin eased the ache in his chest that he'd since the night he'd left. Maker how he missed him, if only these damned bars weren't in the way. Sparrow released a breath, tightening his hold on the bars. He didn't even hear Aelia as she spoke, merely making a noise in protest as Fenris moved back from him. No, not him, the door. His lips curved into a slight smirk as the elf dryly answered Aelia. He was right, if she didn't open this door he'd tear it off it's damn hinges. Now that he could see more of Fenris, he felt his temper rising once more. He was too thin. Almost like the first time he had met him, like he was on the run all over again.
If he's yours.
He was his, but not in the way she was implying. Sparrow felt his blood almost boil in his veins, and the metal bent even more. He spun suddenly, the magic still bending the space around his hands as he faces the female. ”He is not a slave. He is mine just as I am his.”
Sparrow’s sight began to dim, a purple haze tightening around his vision. Spider-web like cracks appeared from his eyes, purple like smoke curling into the air around him as if it was alive. He moved forward, his hand wrapping around her unsuspecting throat. His nails had grown into thick, black, wicked looking claws and he snarled through pointed canines. Briefly catching his reflection in her eyes, he noticed his eyes burned with the purple fire of desire.
”You will release him.” He spoke, his voice layered with the pur of a desire demon. Sparrow gently scratched a nails against her throat, drawing a line of blood on her skin. ”Or you could not...give me a reason to rip into your flesh.”
Posted: Jun 28 2018, 04:40 PM
“I’m not a slave!” Fenris snarled. He looked at his palm, and saw his tattoos glow only faintly. Not enough. He was still too heavy. Too sleepy. Even as he stood against the wall, there was an ache to lay down, close his eyes. “Just take the door, Hawke; she’s like any other slave owner and protective of her things.”
“Oh my Gods,” breathed Aelia, sounding both parts terrified and fascinated.
Fenris blinked up, fighting the fogginess, and then chilled colder than the stone.
The air was twisting in magic. It curled from Hawke in smoky amethyst.
Not him. He’d promised no! Not all mages! He’d said… He’d said…!
“Hawke.” Choked by his paralyzed heart, the sound was a pleaded whisper as Fenris silently begged his eyes to be wrong and this to be some trick to his impaired mind. The man’s new voice fell on his ears like the ugly, shrieking noise of metal squeaking off stone. Fenris sat on the straw bed, grounded with horror.
Let me wake up, he thought, closing his eyes in vain.
Aelia spoke in a frightened whisper. “I’ll open…you can have him.”
She kept the key on her, that Fenris knew, pulling it out by a cord she kept tucked away around her neck or in a belt pouch. The metal lock clanged and she pushed the door inward, which swung on gentle hinges.
Fenris swallowed and opened his eyes. A mere abomination wouldn't keep him from freedom. He rocked onto his feet and rushed past the mages, although he paused at the next surface, using it as a crutch as he swayed unevenly.
“Don't!” Fenris yanked his arm away when Hawke reached out to him. “Don’t touch me,” he said, miserably. He couldn’t… No, his skin might crawl off if Hawke touched him right then.
“He’s not eaten in over a day,” Aelia informed, although it remained to be known if helpful.
“She’s drugged me.”
“Sedated,” she corrected. Her hand hovered over her neck, ethereal magic in her palm as she healed her neck. “Otherwise, he’s too wild and with his ability to phase through objects?”
“I want to go,” he said to Hawke.
“Go? But! You both are…!” Aelia protested, and Fenris didn’t like the way she looked at him. “Look, I’ve not seen something like the elf before! I just want to know how it works…!”
“Exactly why I want to leave.” Fenris finally looked at Hawke, needing him back to normal before he could request help.
Help… From an abomination.
Posted: Jun 28 2018, 05:35 PM
Sparrow’s lips curved into a pout, something that looked out of place on his face, as Aelia agreed to unlock the cell. His hand remained locked around her throat for a second longer before he sighed wistfully and let it drop away from her. The door was open and Fenris moved past them quickly, almost stumbling before he leaned against the table nearby. He reached for the elf, fingers brushing against skin before Fenris jerked away from him, snarling. It caused his lips to curl into a wicked grin.
”You're scared,” he spoke. ”You don't know where you are…”
He left it at that. Maybe it would get his message across, or maybe it wouldn't. Either way, this was sure to be entertaining to say the least. Sparrow closed his eyes, the purple mist curling back into him, retreating back into his skin as if it was never there to begin with. A groan left Sparrow’s lips and he suddenly felt exhausted, his limbs too heavy. The mage leaned forward to catch himself onto the table, breathing harsh as he tried to get a handle on what happened.
Sparrow’s head snapped up and he released a breath of relief. He was fine. The mage moved towards the elf, reaching out to touch him only to have Fenris shy away from his touch. Hawke felt a lump form in his throat, and try as he might he could swallow it. His chest tightened painfully and his mouth was dry. ”Fenris…”
He couldn't finish his sentence. What was he going to say? Apologize? Sparrow’s gaze snapped to Aelia and he shook his head before snapping. ”Stop talking. We're leaving, and if you ever come near him again I swear I'll tear you to pieces and feed you to a damn hurlock myself.”
Sparrow forced himself to straighten up, watching Fenris closely. His expression was one of heartache and fear. This wasn't how this was supposed to be. He had expected anger, he had left the elf in the middle of the night without a word, but not this. This was fear and disappointment. This was something he had never wanted to be in Fenris’ eyes.
”Come on…” he said softly. ”Lets go…”
Posted: Jun 28 2018, 08:18 PM
What? Fenris heard the abomination’s words. Their familiarity. An abominations words shouldn’t be familiar. His whole chest was an ice block and it almost too difficult to breathe. That was weeks. Weeks ago and a dream world away.
That bitch. She’d gone after Hawke. Had she persuaded him or taken over forcefully? Either way led to this disastrous, undesirable outcome, but one way shifted the blame to Hawke and the other put it all on her. That voice. The one that said it could be him.
She was not. Even with Hawke’s body. She was not.
The next time Hawke spoke was from beside him and in his own voice. Fenris released a long breath through his nose. Even smirked a little at Hawke’s threat. He could distinguish between the two in typical interaction, he thought. Or perhaps that was the complacency of the drug. He was so tired.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
“Agreed,” Fenris murmured. His gaze flicked to Hawke, and away, making sure he was normal before looking more closely at him. He wouldn’t be able to stomach looking at Hawke and instead seeing the demon in control. For a second, his mind’s eye did as Hawke reached again, and Fenris turned away, heart squeezing in fright and revulsion. “... I… One moment.” He looked at Aelia. “Where are my things?”
The woman, seeming irked, indignant, but at a loss for expression, huffed. “You don’t have things. My employer sold them to earn back some of the gold he paid for you. Which,” she was looking at Hawke. “Was A LOT.”
Fenris gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Unfortunate for him that he paid for a free man.”
“He’ll want you back.” more like she’d want him back. They always did.
“Let him try. It wouldn’t be the first time, and I killed most of the hunters last time, and I don’t make mistakes twice.” Bold words from someone struggling to stand upright. He looked at Hawke, felt the icy lump return in his throat. He hated himself, knowing his face showed everything, and saw the pain reflected back at him. “I need help. The world. It’s… spinning.” Hesitant, Fenris stretched out his arm to lean onto Hawke’s shoulder.
And felt disgusted.
With Hawke’s help, he could walk a decent straight line at a well enough pace. “This means… they sold the Sword of Mercy.” The one Hawke had given him. Fenris sighed. He frowned. Tired. Angry. Hurting. Confused. He wanted to sleep, and shout, and demand answers, but he needed to get away from the laboratory first. Put distance between him and this place and find a safe place first. “I’m sorry…” he said, about the sword.
Posted: Jun 28 2018, 10:52 PM
Sparrow felt his anger rising as Aelia continued to talk, and he met her gaze with a glare. ”Do you not know what stop talking means? Do I need to draw you a picture? I mean my art skills suck but maybe it'll help.”
Snark was a better avenue than anger, because anger gave way to desire and right now he couldn't afford to let that happen. Sparrow grit his teeth. Let whomever had bought Fenris come looking for him. It would be the last thing he ever did. Between himself and Fenris they could handle anything. As long as they were together. A word that caused his heart to clench because the way Fenris looked at him was louder than any words and spoke clearly that there might not be a together anymore.
The mage felt the elf tense as Fenris reached out to him, his arm wrapping around his neck. He was almost trembling, like he was seconds from bolting away, and Sparrow felt himself choke. All he had wanted was to get back to the one person he loved more than anything and now that person was pulling away. He couldn't blame him though, not really.
Sparrow looked at Fenris as the elf spoke, and he released a breath, shaking his head. ”All that matters is you're safe. I can always get you another sword.”
Hawke paused at the doorway, glancing back to Aelia. His lips curved into a smile and he raised a brow. ”Please do tell your employer Hawke sends his best. I would have stayed to have tea but my attention is needed elsewhere.”
He tightened his hold around Fenris, helping the elf through the door and out into the fresh air. Maybe once they were out of there things would be okay…
Posted: Jun 29 2018, 09:10 AM
Fenris waited until they left the mage’s home before sighing again, almost a growl. “Yes. Please taunt our enemies as you leave the premise with their prize. Would you like to put salt in their wounds while you’re at it?”
He leaned on Hawke, and breathed deeply. Free again, but he’d be looking over his shoulder. Every day. Each night. Fenris looked at Hawke out of the corner of his eye, somehow saddened and enraged as he thought: during the night. “Fasta vass…” Fenris cursed, voice soft. At Hawke. At that bitch. At Tevinter Mages who drugged him. At the bloody ground that tilted as he walked, feeling more like a rolling boat, and his confused senses couldn’t rationalize using sea legs on solid land.
As he walked, he could feel his initial disgust fade to simple discomfort. His mouth was still dry, having fallen asleep before drinking the water that had been in his cell. Things should be going differently.
It wasn’t fair. Fenris wanted to embrace Hawke, kiss him, tell him he loved him and in the same breath announce his idiocy. Badly. In the same moment, he was afraid kissing Hawke would taste sour. He wasn’t sure if he’d be confessing love to just Hawke or the new creature that is Hawke. Well, at least he could still call him an idiot.
“I’m grateful,” he said. His fingers dug against Hawke’s shoulder. Was he shaking because he feared Hawke? Or because he was hungry? “Thank you. I was in there for several days, but whatever drug she was using was strong… is strong. Activating… it requires too much concentration. All I am is exhausted. Walking is exhausting...” Drugs. Hunger. Experiments. Fuzzy darkness curled around the edges of his vision and Fenris wobbled on his next step, threatened by forced sleep. His body jerked, overreacting to his imbalance, and he bunched Hawke’s clothes in his efforts to remain upright. “We need a safe place until this wears off,” he croaked, groggy. ” Where are we going?”
Posted: Jul 4 2018, 09:31 AM
Sparrow snorted softly as Fenris chastised him. Honestly he shouldn't have been surprised. Since when had he ever taken anything serious? Besides it wasn't as if anyone would know who he was, not here. He wondered if Fenris knew where they were. The elf cursed, drawing Hawke's attention to him, and he frowned. He wasn't used to seeing Fenris so weak. Normally it was him that needed Fenris to hold him up, not the other way around. He wanted to kiss him, to apologize for leaving him, and yet he knew it would be unwelcome.
”You don't have to thank me, Fenris.” Sparrow spoke finally. What was he supposed to do, leave Him? It wasn't an option. He cleared his throat after a moment and jerked his chin forward. ”There is a village a short distance, I already have a room.”
Sparrow paused, glancing down at Fenris. His lips curved into a grin a moment later and he redirected his gaze to their path before speaking again, a bit sassy. ”Or if you prefer I think I saw a cave a little ways back. We could share a den with a mother bear and her cubs for the night.”
He didn't really know if the cave was inhabited or not, but the air around them was thick with tension and he needed to break it. At least for a bit. He knew that the conversation between them was imminent. That Fenris would demand answers about what he was. Why? Sparrow didn't know what to tell him. The excuses he told himself weren't good enough for Fenris, he knew this. They were weak and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Because he'd heard them before from the mouth of another abomination.
Fenris would be sure to point that out because he'd heard the same things that he had. The only difference was that he had no other reason than the elf currently in his arms. Sparrow had wanted to return to Fenris so badly that he had literally hadn't cared about anything else. He'd fallen victim to a demon and it's lies purely because he had been selfish.
Maker, he'd just wanted to come home.
Posted: Jul 4 2018, 10:10 AM
Yes, he did have to thank Hawke. He thanked him every time he aligned himself in harm’s way. Harm was imminent in this silent agreement; there would be hunters. There would be Aelia’s employer, maybe Aelia herself. Although the latter was a bit laughable; the woman was no warrior and showcased nearly no backbone when faced with opposition. There would be bodies, traps, mages, and who knows what else. Just like when they met ten years ago.
Fenris was grateful for every instance and advocate on his behalf.
Hawke joked and Fenris laughed. “I think getting up every hour to punch a bear would be tiresome.” He smiled at Hawke, seeing just the man in that moment. “Although it would be amusing to see you try. I can only imagine the bear’s startled expression.”
Demanding answers, moral discussions, and demonic possession conversations could wait. Fenris squeezed Hawke’s shoulder again, as if he could hold on to just the man, and pretended he could as they walked the path.
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