Sofia Vitaliya [Izar] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
resonation) wrote2012-02-23 11:12 pm
resonation) wrote2012-02-23 11:12 pm
(no subject)
A thing for debs. DA2 Fic, Fenris/Fem!Hawke, shades of Merril/Hawke, Merrill POV. Terribly rambly and all over I am sorry.
Merrill had watched Fenris from the day she met him on Sundermount. It wasn’t that she found him particularly attractive, or would even consider such a possibility (Fenris was handsome enough, she supposed, but he was no Hawke, and besides, it’d be like trying to date a bear; far too many injuries for far too little a prize), but Fenris was the first elf outside the Dalish she’d really ever known, and that counted for something.
He was also an impossibly bitter, inflexible ass, but he was still the first, and mean as he was, he did still speak to her, even if most of the elves in the alienage didn't.
It was because she watched him that she noticed him watching Hawke before anyone else, even Varric. She had first seen it when they left for the Deep Roads-Hawke had answered some question of his before being called over to attend something else, and Fenris’ gaze had…lingered as she walked, as if he was curious over some small detail in her armor. Merrill had thought it cute, had meant to tease him about it when they came back, but the return from the Deep Roads was heavy and sorrow-laden, and so she never said anything.
But she kept on watching, and watched Fenris’ curiosity grow into something else. Sometimes, she suspected he came to visit Varric at the Hanged Man on the chance Hawke was there, before she realized that she was thinking of herself, and hoped no one was watching her quiet as closely. After four years, she realizes that Hawke is also watching Fenris, and also that the two of them have drifted closer in a slow, inevitable dance. They make a good picture together, black and white, and she thinks that it’s a shame, she wouldn’t have made that lovely a picture with Hawke anyway. Part of her wonders how Hawke manages, Fenris being so sour about mages in general, but she’s always been good at making people laugh and maybe that’s all Fenris needed. So Merrill keeps watching, because they are lovely together, and it’s nice, to see happiness starting to bloom, however awkward it is.
One night it changes, and her heart nearly breaks to see it. Hawke is good at smiling when she doesn’t feel like it, but Merrill knows the difference now, and knows the weight that seems dropped on Hawke’s shoulders is painful. She wonders if she should tell Fenris, because she’s sure he’ll rip apart whatever made Hawke unhappy, he’s good at ripping things apart, after all, when she notices the faint purple mark on Hawke’s neck, hidden by her hair.
Oh.
She never says anything, just babbles on to Hawke about magic and elvhan history and griffins, and she never says anything to Fenris, either. She wants to, wants to storm up to him and ask him why Hawke is hurting, why he’d ever do something that would hurt her, and stops, because when she sees him that day, in the moments before he realizes she’s watching, Fenris watches Hawke with such a sadness and want Merrill thinks she pities him more than she’s angry. Even if he is an idiot. She doesn’t ask what happened any more than she asks about the red scarf tied around his wrist; none of them ask, although Merrill notices Varric and Isabela share a look over it’s appearance. Merrill continues to watch them, and wonders if she should help. She tells Fenris it’s alright for him to be happy, and he doesn’t respond to her, and she doesn’t quite understand why they’re dancing around each other, but she keeps quiet, and waits, because she’s sure they’ll work it out somehow.
She does not expect to be waiting three years. So many times, Merrill almost wants to scream—to grab Fenris, shake him, tell him to go back because it’s painfully, agonizingly obvious to everyone around them that all he really wants is Hawke. Merrill can’t fault his taste at all, but she wonders why he’s so stupid about it, wonders why Hawke doesn’t move either. The eluvhian is more important than solving their problems, and Merrill wouldn’t know how to anyway, but she stares at it and wonders if, perhaps, after she’s fixed it for her clan maybe she can lock them in a cupboard somewhere. The creator’s knew Hawke’s wardrobes were big enough to fit entire clans in, it felt like. But she’s tired of Fenris and his bristles and the anger that never seems to go away, and he’s a grown man who can fix his own mistakes, even if it’s hurting Hawke, and she says nothing.
She is there the day he goes to see his sister, and when she sees Danarius walk down the steps, Merrill suddenly understands much more than she ever wished to. She feels unclean, feels horrified that this man is what Fenris has always seen when he looks at mages, and she considers going to a quiet corner to throw up and then scrub until her skin is raw when she turns to make sure Hawke does stop Fenris from killing his sister. What she sees is heartbreaking as Fenris goes to Hawke…and turns away again. In some ways, it almost feels like he’s crying, but Merrill has even more trouble imagining that than she has imagining Fenris smiling. And just like that, the moment is over, and they split in different directions outside the Hanged Man. Hawke follows Fenris, and Merrill follows Hawke part of the way, stopping before they even pass in front of the Viscount’s castle.
“Let it be, Kitten.” Merrill jumps, and stares at Isabela—she had forgotten the woman had come back. Isabela smiles back, and shepherds Merrill away with the promise of cards and wine, which Merrill allows because she suspects Isabela is right.
Hours later, Hawke turns up at Merrill’s house to check on her, and Fenris is with her, tailing almost too close and with an oddly…smug look to his normal cranky scowl. And just like that, Merrill frames up the picture they make and giggles, before finding some water for Hawke to drink and Fenris to refuse.
Just like that, after three years of waiting, they’ve fallen back into each other’s orbit. Merrill doesn’t think to be jealous-there’s a thousand reasons why Hawke would choose Fenris instead, and if they’re happy, why be upset about that?-but thinks that it would be nice if she could be around to watch them for a long time.
Merrill had watched Fenris from the day she met him on Sundermount. It wasn’t that she found him particularly attractive, or would even consider such a possibility (Fenris was handsome enough, she supposed, but he was no Hawke, and besides, it’d be like trying to date a bear; far too many injuries for far too little a prize), but Fenris was the first elf outside the Dalish she’d really ever known, and that counted for something.
He was also an impossibly bitter, inflexible ass, but he was still the first, and mean as he was, he did still speak to her, even if most of the elves in the alienage didn't.
It was because she watched him that she noticed him watching Hawke before anyone else, even Varric. She had first seen it when they left for the Deep Roads-Hawke had answered some question of his before being called over to attend something else, and Fenris’ gaze had…lingered as she walked, as if he was curious over some small detail in her armor. Merrill had thought it cute, had meant to tease him about it when they came back, but the return from the Deep Roads was heavy and sorrow-laden, and so she never said anything.
But she kept on watching, and watched Fenris’ curiosity grow into something else. Sometimes, she suspected he came to visit Varric at the Hanged Man on the chance Hawke was there, before she realized that she was thinking of herself, and hoped no one was watching her quiet as closely. After four years, she realizes that Hawke is also watching Fenris, and also that the two of them have drifted closer in a slow, inevitable dance. They make a good picture together, black and white, and she thinks that it’s a shame, she wouldn’t have made that lovely a picture with Hawke anyway. Part of her wonders how Hawke manages, Fenris being so sour about mages in general, but she’s always been good at making people laugh and maybe that’s all Fenris needed. So Merrill keeps watching, because they are lovely together, and it’s nice, to see happiness starting to bloom, however awkward it is.
One night it changes, and her heart nearly breaks to see it. Hawke is good at smiling when she doesn’t feel like it, but Merrill knows the difference now, and knows the weight that seems dropped on Hawke’s shoulders is painful. She wonders if she should tell Fenris, because she’s sure he’ll rip apart whatever made Hawke unhappy, he’s good at ripping things apart, after all, when she notices the faint purple mark on Hawke’s neck, hidden by her hair.
Oh.
She never says anything, just babbles on to Hawke about magic and elvhan history and griffins, and she never says anything to Fenris, either. She wants to, wants to storm up to him and ask him why Hawke is hurting, why he’d ever do something that would hurt her, and stops, because when she sees him that day, in the moments before he realizes she’s watching, Fenris watches Hawke with such a sadness and want Merrill thinks she pities him more than she’s angry. Even if he is an idiot. She doesn’t ask what happened any more than she asks about the red scarf tied around his wrist; none of them ask, although Merrill notices Varric and Isabela share a look over it’s appearance. Merrill continues to watch them, and wonders if she should help. She tells Fenris it’s alright for him to be happy, and he doesn’t respond to her, and she doesn’t quite understand why they’re dancing around each other, but she keeps quiet, and waits, because she’s sure they’ll work it out somehow.
She does not expect to be waiting three years. So many times, Merrill almost wants to scream—to grab Fenris, shake him, tell him to go back because it’s painfully, agonizingly obvious to everyone around them that all he really wants is Hawke. Merrill can’t fault his taste at all, but she wonders why he’s so stupid about it, wonders why Hawke doesn’t move either. The eluvhian is more important than solving their problems, and Merrill wouldn’t know how to anyway, but she stares at it and wonders if, perhaps, after she’s fixed it for her clan maybe she can lock them in a cupboard somewhere. The creator’s knew Hawke’s wardrobes were big enough to fit entire clans in, it felt like. But she’s tired of Fenris and his bristles and the anger that never seems to go away, and he’s a grown man who can fix his own mistakes, even if it’s hurting Hawke, and she says nothing.
She is there the day he goes to see his sister, and when she sees Danarius walk down the steps, Merrill suddenly understands much more than she ever wished to. She feels unclean, feels horrified that this man is what Fenris has always seen when he looks at mages, and she considers going to a quiet corner to throw up and then scrub until her skin is raw when she turns to make sure Hawke does stop Fenris from killing his sister. What she sees is heartbreaking as Fenris goes to Hawke…and turns away again. In some ways, it almost feels like he’s crying, but Merrill has even more trouble imagining that than she has imagining Fenris smiling. And just like that, the moment is over, and they split in different directions outside the Hanged Man. Hawke follows Fenris, and Merrill follows Hawke part of the way, stopping before they even pass in front of the Viscount’s castle.
“Let it be, Kitten.” Merrill jumps, and stares at Isabela—she had forgotten the woman had come back. Isabela smiles back, and shepherds Merrill away with the promise of cards and wine, which Merrill allows because she suspects Isabela is right.
Hours later, Hawke turns up at Merrill’s house to check on her, and Fenris is with her, tailing almost too close and with an oddly…smug look to his normal cranky scowl. And just like that, Merrill frames up the picture they make and giggles, before finding some water for Hawke to drink and Fenris to refuse.
Just like that, after three years of waiting, they’ve fallen back into each other’s orbit. Merrill doesn’t think to be jealous-there’s a thousand reasons why Hawke would choose Fenris instead, and if they’re happy, why be upset about that?-but thinks that it would be nice if she could be around to watch them for a long time.