Fenris - Dragon Age

[wolfuncaged]

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Drift Fleet AU - A bar on Accendo - 2/7

[serpentis]

[Here he was again, looking to drink as heavily as he could manage, to numb himself from the outside world. Dorian stepped up to the bar, settling into place, and nodded at the familiar elf a few seats down. He debated for a moment if he was going to inch closer, but if there is anything misery likes, it's company.

So he took his whiskey, and stepped over, settling into place in a seat. He didn't say anything, but he took a few drinks, sitting in silence. He wasn't certain that anything needed to be said, but he finally broke the silence, swirling his whiskey and looking at the lowball glass.

He wasn't exactly certain where he stood with Fenris.]

Good evening.

[That was a start, at least.]

((OOC: BACKDATED LIKE WOAH SO I CAN ACCEPTABLY MAKE THIS AU MAKE SENSE.))

[wolfuncaged]

[Fenris himself wasn't sure where he stood with Dorian. The man was everything he should hate, and yet- he wanted to make a difference. He wanted to get rid of the rot that had infected Tevinter and make the country something worthwhile again. A goal Fenris was not sure he could achieve, but it was a worthy one all the same.

He smiled a little, just the slightest curve of the lips. ]

It would be better with some decent wine, but I shall have to make do with what I can get.

[serpentis]

A great and many things are better with decent wine, I've found, but the company will have to do for now. At the very least, I've found the wine here is at least a step above the vinegar they served at Skyhold.

[He slight smile wasn't missed, though. Where Dorian was expressive, he could tell that Fenris was reserved, withdrawn, and even the slightest quirk of his lips was like a small victory.]

Fenris stop banging all the inquisitions

[dawnwillcome]

[It all started with the stupid chocolates and only got worse from there. Fenris was an enigma, filled with opinions he didn't deviate from that only made sense when he explained them and the most amazingly dry sense of humor Jove has ever come across. She had liked him right away, but the attraction had been more of a slow burn.

It's impossible to ignore that it exists now, though. Now she's been spending a day a week with him, locked up in his room alone with him as she helps him pick up the business of reading. It hadn't been much at first, friends sitting near enough that she could point out which letters he should be putting emphasis on, but as time went on she was able to lean a little more into his personal space without him flinching.

Now he's sitting while she stands beside him, one hand braced on the back of his chair while the other supports her weight against the desk he's at. Close, but not too close. It's a delicate line to ride and the last thing she wants to do is make him uncomfortable.]

You're coming up to a tough one now, here. [She points to the word on the page, honest, with its traitorous silent H.] Someone decided words with letters that don't have a sound was a good idea. Try it without the first letter.

CAN'T STOP WON'T STOP

[wolfuncaged]

[Fenris has always been dismissive of the Dalish, of other elves in general. Merrill didn't exactly give him a good starting point on such things, and he came out of the gate jaded about them. Jove has started to make him see they aren't all fools. That some are even people to be respected, admired. It's surprised him.

The rest is more surprising, as with everyone he allows near to him, Jove brings up jumbled feelings in him. He always struggles with such things, how close to let people in, how much he should trust them without fearing they will use him. Jove is a good person, he knows that much. And so, he allows her closer than most.

He huffs out in annoyance, leaning in to squint at the letter.]

Why have the letter at all if you are not meant to speak it?

[Words are stupid. ]

One'st?

[dawnwillcome]

[She laughs softly at the question, because it's something she's wondered on her own often enough.]

I suppose it must be just to drive us crazy. That was good, though.

[And then she forgets, just for a moment, to keep distance between them. She's always doing things like putting her hand on Dorian's arm or giving affectionate pats to the shoulders of her friends, and like it or not she considers Fenris that now. Her hand leaves the back of the chair and rests on his back, rubbing absently in a small sign of approval.]

Honest. I'll give that one to you though, you got very close.

OT3 ADORABLENESS BECAUSE WE HATE OURSELVES

[wolfuncaged]

[Family has always been a difficult concept for Fenris. His own were long gone, shadows in his memory, the hint of a voice, Varania's departing back, nothing of substance. But then things changed, slowly, but change they did. He found love, the love of two people, at that. He found security, and then, surprisingly to him, he found family.

He'd never considered being a father, he'd assumed such a thing was unattainable. When Jove had told him she was with child, he was terrified. What if he got it wrong? He barely understood how to take care of himself. How could he take care of a child? But when their daughter had been born, the fear dissipated. For the most part. At night, he would stand guard by her crib, like a Mabari, watching her sleep in silence. She was so small, so precious, and she meant the world to him.

He kept his silent watch over her as she grew. Teaching her what he could, half the time learning along with her. Today, she is happily playing in the courtyard of Skyhold, tottering over to the various people wandering around, demanding they state what their business is in her castle. Fenris watches from his quiet corner, a soft smile on his face. ]

WADES IN

[serpentis]

[Dorian is occasionally coaxed from his library. Things where...different now, with Tevinter no longer hanging over him like a ghost. Life moved on, and here in Skyhold he found everything he could have never had in Tevinter.

He has love, and family, and oddly enough it wasn't the broken kind of desperate clinging of his heart like it was with his father. He didn't feel like he had to be more for Fenris or Jove, because somehow, they loved him for who he was. Simply being himself, that was enough.

Dorian walks from the keep, and is quickly halted by a little girl.]

"HALT!

[And he does, with a chuckle, bowing deeply.]

Principissa, good to see you're attending to your loyal subjects.

[As he rises, he catches Fenris's eye, and his lips quirk into a warm smile.]

IT'S A LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP IT'S FINE

[dawnwillcome]

[It's almost funny, how naturally all this fit together. Sure there had been some rumors, some particularly nasty whispers, but it had all faded in only a few months. Leliana and Josephine saw to it, but surprisingly so had Vivienne, all three of them working together to spin it into some romantic tale. Not all of it was true, there were at least seven different versions of who was in love with who and how the whole thing had started, but after years of having the chance to get used to it, it seemed like the whole of Thedas had fallen in love with this little family.

One thing was for certain, powerful people from every corner sent their daughter expensive gifts on every single nameday. If she ever wanted power, it would be as simple as reaching out and picking low hanging fruit.

But for now? Now Jove joins Fenris at his side and waves to Dorian.]

Looks like our girl's got him wrapped around her finger already. It was a record today, I don't think he'd gotten more than ten paces. Will you stop calling her that! She's already got the run of the place!

[The last is shouted at Dorian and she waves him over, knowing it won't take much to get him to join them. It rarely did take a lot of effort to get the three of them happily in one spot.]

back from the dead. hawke & fenris

[anywayhereskirkwall]

[ Hawke is...tired.

'Tired' used to mean something different. Before it meant a grin still lingering on his face, splatters of enemies' blood on his clothes, dirt under his fingernails. It meant collapsing in a chair at the Hanged Man with a foaming mug of ale, surrounded by his friends, ready to recount the days' adventures. Before, he could fall into bed and wake up the next day ready to take on the world again.

Now, there's something much colder and much deeper dragging his bones and making them ache, like his spirit's back is giving out. He wants to bounce back like he always does, put himself back together with a smile and a terrible joke--but it's harder now, and Hawke wonders if he really is just getting way too damn old for this.

The journey to Weisshaupt is smooth enough, he thinks, though his definition of 'smooth' generally just means a few less bodies in the sand than usual. The fortress is...somber, heavy with the grief and shame hanging over the heads of many of the Wardens, but it all barely registers to Hawke. He feels like something chipped off him and fell to the ground and is floating around somewhere in the Fade, never to be picked up again.

It's late; talks will come tomorrow. For now, he's directed to the chamber he'll be staying in and informed that someone had arrived earlier that day to meet him. Something swoops up in Hawke's stomach and up to his chest, something that's equal parts ecstatic and terrified and yet muffled by the pervasive exhaustion he still feels, and he heads there immediately.

He just hopes the person waiting for him recognizes the man he came to meet. ]

[wolfuncaged]

[Fenris had been near Wycome when the letter had come to him. He'd been following the trail of some slavers, who has been hugging the coastline, trying to dock and prey on the refugees headed for the bigger cities in the Free Marches. It was gritty, messy work, but it took his mind off the fact that Hawke had gone where he couldn't follow. Where he'd been asked not to follow. Slaughtering the slavers at least got rid of some of the pent up frustration gathered by feeling powerless. Not knowing what Hawke was facing, not being able to ensure his safety by being at his side. He hated it.

The refugees kept him fed, offering meagre supplies as thanks for his protection. He took little, not wishing for them to go hungry on his account. He'd lived on the road before, he knew how to take care of himself, when it came to it. It was one of the refugees that brought the letter to him, claiming some soldier from the blighted Inquisition that Hawke had run to had brought it. He'd read Varric's words, the fact he could at all one of Hawke's greatest gifts to him, more so than any sword or talisman, and headed right for Weisshaupt.

He'd got there early, they told him, that Ser Hawke was on his way. Then, nervously, they had directed him to the man's chambers and left him be. Fenris never cared much for Wardens, Anders was his main focal point for them and it had left a sour taste in his mouth.

So, he'd waited. And where Hawke looked tired, Fenris looked tightly wound. His agitation had only grown, from reading the letter, to waiting in this room. Varric's letter had been purposefully vague, but it didn't hold the usual irreverent tones the dwarf liked to use. Something was deeply wrong.

He'd been pacing, when Hawke finally arrives. He pauses, glancing up, eyes tying to take in everything all at once. Trying to check for injury, for anything that needed his immediate concern. Something was definitely wrong, and it made his heart ache. But Maker, if it wasn't good to see him again. ]

Hawke.

[Just his name, but beneath the usual gruffness, there was concern, frustration, and under that the deep, aching love that always threatened to consume him if he were not careful. ]

[anywayhereskirkwall]

[ There are so many things Hawke has to say. He'd been running over the list in his head over and over during his journey--'I'm sorry' is at the top of it, of course--but now his head feels blank and hollow. For once, he can't say anything.

So he just starts the process of dressing down, setting his ax against the wall and starting to remove his armor. The pieces clank as they fall to the floor, the only sound that comes from him for the time being. ]

just post-trespasser things

[dawnwillcome]

[It takes a few months from the dissolution of the Inquisition for Jove to decide her only real choice is to go to Kirkwall. After everything she learned from Solas about her own people, after how much she had changed during her time living in Skyhold, there was nothing left for her with her clan. They knew it, she knew it, and all it took was one last letter to Wycome to find they didn't require her back. As much as she loves Skyhold, with everyone leaving it because there was no more need to house an army there it became too depressing to stay.

So she goes to Kirkwall and isn't very fond of Hightown, but the shemlen there greet her with the respect she's come to expect, being the Inquisitor. Many still greet her that way, or with Herald, or your Worship, and she supposes it fits if she's to hold the title Varric gave her for no reason other than he could.

The house itself is nice, and Varric tells her over drinks it once was a dump, roof caving in in places, broken wine bottles, cracked tile and if she could believe it, corpses for decoration. He's fixed it up, now, decorated it so it looked very much like Skyhold had. The same tapestries, she thinks, and he refuses to say if it's true.

He also refuses to admit to putting extra work and money into making it somewhere she can live with only one arm.

She's had the most trouble adjusting to that, but here there are workarounds for so much that she hadn't realized troubled her. There are railings near the deep bath, the kitchen is arranged so that everything she may need to reach for will always be on her right. When she first visits the house on her own and realizes how far he's gone, she has to take more time than she'd like to admit to sit at the table and cry.

Now, though, it's been a week and she's gotten used to the place. It doesn't feel like home in the same way Skyhold had, but Varric visits daily and tells her what he's done to drive people up the wall and it's certainly a start. After she sees him off far too late at night, she doesn't think twice about checking the windows to be sure they're securely locked before tumbling into the soft, warm bed. They'd had more than a few drinks and now, suitably hazy and mildly floaty, it doesn't take her long to fall asleep.]

awww yis

[wolfuncaged]

[Fenris hadn't seen home for a long time. Not that the mansion was truly his home, just as Kirkwall wasn't. Not in of itself. Home to Fenris was wherever his found family were, scattered to the winds as they were. They were his home, forever.

He'd had a letter from Varric. Something about letting someone else stay in the mansion. He hadn't much minded. He'd all but abandoned it. He hadn't quite realised Varric had meant it was a much more permanent arrangement.

He didn't think much on finding the doors locked, when he finally arrived in the wee small hours of some morning. Varric no doubt had them, and he could retrieve them later. For now, he settled in finding one of the less secure windows, and letting himself in.

He drops silently onto the floor and...

There's an elf in his bed.

Okay, it's not his bed, on account of it being not a broken pile of wood. But it's where his bed used to be. There is a scrape of steel as he draws his sword, moving a little closer, eyes glowing in the moonlight.

He's not entirely sure how to handle this. Maybe Varric has been renting this out more than he knew? Longer? Should he leave?

...No fuck that, this is where his BED was.

He'll settle for clearing his throat. Loudly. There. He'll be polite about it, instead of murdering someone who might be one of Varric's friends.]

[dawnwillcome]

[Like every night, there's a wolf in her dreams. He stays at the edges of her awareness as she walks in the Fade, is always gone when she tries to look directly at him, but he's always there and she hates it even as she welcomes the brief moments of peace she finds when he's near. Tonight he seems restless, he growls low and quiet and sets her on edge and she doesn't understand what could possibly be different-

Until she's torn from sleep by the sound of someone in her bedroom. She sits up quickly, but she's unbalanced with only one hand to grip the sheets for purchase. She doesn't sleep with a weapon, but she's a mage. She doesn't need to, and when she brings her hand up and lightning crackles along her palm, she's ready to electrocute whoever may be there.

But in the purple light her magic gives off, she spots a familiar face and frowns in confusion.]

You-

[Another wolf, this one traded for the one that stalked her in her dreams, and she's not sure which makes less sense.]

[dawnwillcome]

[After the work she's put into it, Jove is proud to say the bath she's gotten ready is looking quite inviting. There are candles and little trays of food, a bottle of Fenris' favorite wine and glasses, and steam curls up from the heated water to make the room comfortingly warm.

It's been a long couple of days fighting for the good of the world, and they could both use some time to relax together, quietly, with no chance they might be called away for some new and exciting crisis in Thedas. She's asked one of the pages to bring her message to Fenris, telling him to visit the Inquisitor in her quarters at his earliest convenience.

When he arrives he'll find her already in the water running a soapy cloth along one arm and looking entirely relaxed already.]

[wolfuncaged]

[He'd been organising some decent lodgings for the latest wave of refugees he'd rescued with Josephine when the page had arrived with the message. Fenris finished up his business as quickly as he could (with Josie watching with no small amount of amusement) before heading to Jove's quarters.

He wanders up the long stairwell, finally turning up into her quarters proper. At the sight of her in the bath, he lets out a deep, throaty chuckle. ]

Well, this is a pleasant surprise.

For Kirk

[wolfuncaged]

Fenris had always had a great amount of faith in Kirk, the man lent himself towards gathering loyalty quite well. He still hadn't quite believed he'd have a chance out of Thedas, when all this was over- a different place to live. Somewhere he could thrive much better, away from dark magic and holes in the sky. When Kirk had told him he could go with him, Fenris had taken it in good humour. He never thought the man had actually meant it.

But here he was, aboard Kirk's ship - Kirk's actual ship, a member of his crew. The...uniform had taken some getting used to, and he'd kept his old tunic and armour in his quarters, just in case. He still remained barefoot, though. Some habits could never be broken.

Still, he was grateful to Kirk for bringing him here. For giving him a new home. He'd always been comfortable around the man in the Fleet, but comfort had grown into something more, during his time there and then especially here. Familiarity, the knowledge of what they had been through- it made him feel closer still. His ease around Kirk had changed, he'd allowed himself beyond his usual jokes, strayed into casual flirtation- which in itself crew into far less casual flirting. He'd surprised himself when he came to realise he actually meant it.

And so, he found himself heading to Kirk's quarters a little brighter than usual. He welcomed their talks, to reminisce about where they'd been, discuss perhaps where the ship would go next. But he found he welcomed Kirk's company even more. He knocked on the door, before entering- not really waiting to be welcomed in first.

"Kirk?"

[universal_charm]

Being home was a shock for Kirk. It felt like it had been so long since he had been in familiar halls, his halls, and it had taken him several weeks to readjust to life on the Enterprise as well as his role as the Captain. Like the last time he had gone home, no one had known he was missing. For them, not a single heartbeat had passed. Only for him had time passed, had gained experiences - and friends.

Fenris' appearance had caused alarm at first. Of course it would - a strange man appearing on their ship between one blink and the next, unlike anything they had seen before or understood. Kirk had managed to calm them all down quickly, calling a department head meeting to explain things with Fenris present in a psuedo-quarantine. There had been quite a few butting of heads, but when no one could say Jim was not mentally sound, or the items he brought back with him make-believe, they had relented. There had been quite a few papers to fill out and more than a few arguments with Star Fleet command, but Kirk's stubbornness had won and Fenris was granted the red shirt under the directive that he was Kirk's responsibility.

That was perfectly fine by Kirk, and in the weeks of his recovery (with Spock acting as captain during his medical absence), he had helped to bring Fenris up to speed on the Enterprise and her regulations, as well as introduce him to the others aboard and his direct commander in security. Of course that meant quite a bit of time together alone, and Kirk would have to have been blind not to notice that other beginning to flirt with him, that subtle progression from the casual into the real.

He knew that it was wrong to entertain ideas of returning said flirtation. Fenris was a Fleet member now, and he was a captain. It simply wasn't done and entirely unethical. But Fenris was also the only one who could understand the shared experience of the Fleet, of those years together hopping from planet to planet and wondering about their fate, feeling powerless. It created a deeper connection he could not deny. He found himself returning the flirtation, showing the other he was interested in what was developing between them, but playing at Fenris' pace.

"Fenris," Kirk chuckled, knowing exactly who came in like that. Bones sometimes did it, but his voice was quite different, and Spock never did unless there was an emergency.

He was seated behind his desk, doing a bit of busy work on a report from a recent visit to a planet. The wall behind him was keyed to show the passing stars. He paused, looking up to watch the other come in, a warm, affectionate smile on his lips.

Coffee Shop AU

[universal_charm]

Before anything else, Kirk fussed over the brown paper bag in his arms as he stepped out of the rain into the coffee shop. He looked more like a mother hen with her egg than a man, but considering what was inside, Kirk had every reason to fuss. A birthday cupcake. A very special one.

Certain that his cargo was not damaged from the sudden storm, he took a quick glance in the windows and slicked back his damp hair and made his way to the end of the bar, taking the middle seat on the short side of the 'L'. It should honestly have had his initials embroidered in it by now, considering he had been coming to the coffee shop every single day for the past six months. Well, not ever single day - but 99% of them, with few cancellations except for being sick or work.

He gave a smile to the waitress whose shift would be ending soon, usually fifteen minutes after he arrived. She gave him a smile back and a knowing look, one shared between co-conspirators. For his part, Kirk shrugged out of his jacket and leaned against the counter, waiting to be served by the man behind it. Though frankly he would be happy just watching him move about all day. Except then he wouldn't be able to present his gift, and that wouldn't do tonight.

"I'll have my usual, when you're ready!" he called to Fenris, beaming innocently at him from down the bar.

[wolfuncaged]

Fenris was well used to Kirk's arrival. Were he honest with himself (which he rarely was) he'd admit he often watched the clock, and the door, for the time when the man would usually arrive. He would even admit to feeling anxious when he was late, or did not show up at all.

He was worried the rain might keep him away today, not that he would have blamed Kirk in the least for that. Why anyone would be out in this weather was beyond him. But there he was, once again, drenched. He smiles at the sight of him, trying to push down the stupid butterflies-in-his-stomach feeling he gets every time he sees that smile. He shouldn't be having butterflies. He's not a teenager any more.

Still, he makes the usual, and comes to the table with it and a tea-towel, offering both.

"You are soaked to the bone, surely my coffee isn't worth risking drowning yourself over."

because it was long overdue for me to hurl a Hawke at him

[indigobird]

“I still maintain that he kicked himself in the balls.”

That's Relm's story and she's sticking with it. The others poked and prodded her about the incident all night while they drank and gambled their money away at the Hanged Man. After spending a lot of time in the company of liars, she's picked up on a few things. Okay, it's not the most believable lie ever, but it gets the point across: she's not spilling the details.

"Amazing feat of physicality. Who knew that the baron had it in himself to pull off such a thing?"

Now that they're all walking back home, Relm finds herself feeling less cornered. And the others, walking ahead, have more or less given up on the line of questioning. So now she's just being a little shit about it, but honestly, Fenris should be used to her antics by now. "And I mean, really, Varric will spin it into something far more ridiculous and dramatic anyway, so what does it matter what I tell him?"

aww heck YES

[wolfuncaged]

Fenris was well used to these kinds of shenanigans, and let out a soft, amused scoff- a noise that could just as easily been considered a guffaw by his closed friends. On the sliding scale of Fenris amusement sounds.

"If it were left up to Varric, the baron would have turned into a nug and fallen into a nest of miniature mabari."

Probably not that ridiculous, but close enough.

"He'd have a bestseller."

<3

[indigobird]

Relm has tried really, really, really, really hard to be mindful and understanding with Fenris, especially in regards to mages and magic. He went through awful things at the hands of one. She gets it, she really does. Some mages are assholes and abuse their power. They deserve to die. And even when he'd go off about mages and making general hurtful statements, she reined in her hurt and tried to reason with him or, if impossible, just sat and listened.

"What has magic touched that it doesn't spoil?" Then he went and said that and Hawke just about had it. It took every ounce of willpower not to say something in the immediate aftermath, letting him storm out of that holding cave. At first, she thought she'd just let it slide like all the other comments. But throughout the rest of the day and the day after, she had sat and stewed on it. That one stung, more than the rest. Maker, even his slightly earlier comment about all mages deserving to rot didn't cut as deep. It's hard to articulate why. Probably some mix of her own feelings about magic, about him (Maker help her, of all the people she could have fallen for), and perhaps just... letting things go too much. Too many barbs left unchallenged, too much bitterness left unremarked upon. Now it's come to a head.

She drinks that night, as she often does. But it's not for fun, and she quickly moves away from the happier, funner activities at the Hanged Man and towards, well... brooding. He's rubbing off on her, she supposes. A couple drinks later, and Hawke leaves the tavern without warning. But she's not going home, oh no. She has another mansion in mind for her destination.

Is this a bad idea? Probably, she thinks as she marches towards his door. But a bit of liquid courage (not enough to render her drunk but enough to loosen her up) and boiling anger override her sense. Relm's gunning for a fight, and maybe one needs to be had. Normally she at least knocks on his door before entering, but tonight she barges in, slamming the heavy front door behind her before plunging further into the empty rooms of his borrowed mansion.

She tries to think of something clever or witty to say, something to trip him up. But her mind's a jumble, and her usual wit fails her. So when she reaches the foyer, just at the base of the stairs, instead of a cutting remark, all she manages is...

"What the fuck, Fenris?"

...at least it's to the point?

hohoho

[wolfuncaged]

Fenris had been making it a point to avoid everyone, after that. The sheer loathing he had for Hadriana boiled inside his gut, not letting him rest. Even in death, it seemed, she would hound him. He stalked around the mansion, from empty, deserted room to empty, deserted room like a ghost. What she told him churned around his mind, he had a sister, and she was alive. She wasn't a slave, and he had no idea how to get to her.

When Relm bursts in, he's instantly on the defensive, lyrium flickering to life, ready to protect himself from whatever attacker has burst through his doors. When he realises who is doing the bursting, the markings fade- though his scowl does not. It's not aimed at her...not entirely. She is too much of a complicated mess of feelings for any true ire to be thrown in her direction. He wonders if he's done something to offend, if she's angry about his hiding away.

"What are you talking about?"