Varric's letter arrives early on a Tuesday, catching Hawke in the middle of trying to wiggle out of doing her correspondence. It hasn't really been long enough for time to have mellowed out the surviving Hawke family progeny in any way, and despite the inheritance, infamy and responsibilities that she's accumulated over the years, she is still stubbornly trying to wiggle her way out of filial duties, or noble chores.
(Bethany would've handled these much better. Hell, even Carver, probably. But Mother had to deal with the reckless apostate daughter, not the nice and friendly one, and Carver's whole becoming a Grey Warden schtick has kind of jammed a stick in the wheel of his destiny as minor Kirkwall gentry. So, it's Marian who skirts around these things, Marian who avoids them as her only way to not disappoint the ghost of her mother - or worse, her father.)
It's a good thing Varric uses a fabulous wax seal that she'd recognise anywhere, or else his letter would've ended in the bin with the rest of them. As it is, she picks it up from the pile, sweeping the others (notes from long lost cousins asking for money, requests from the sons of Free Marcher nobles asking for audience, reminders to pay taxes, so on) into the bin, and incinerating them with a quick fireball, which takes less effort than the flick of her fingers.
Ten minutes later, she almost wishes she'd tossed the letter out too, and not found out about this.
It's Wednesday morning, when she makes her way across Hightown to the empty home that Fenris is still claiming as his own, under the cover of darkness. She's spoken to Isabela last night, and the woman's ready to set sail with sunrise; for Aveline and Merrill, she's left notes. For Fenris, however, it feels...rude, not to tell him in person. She can't forget the look in his eyes, years past now, when he'd finally uncovered the truth of his sister, of Danarius, of who he supposedly was. So Hawke isn't keen to add her name to the list of people that disappoint him, or abandon him. (Besides, she's still helping him with his letters, so maybe forcing him to read a rambling message about why she has to go and might die is not the best idea.)
The door is, as usually, unlocked. She steps inside and makes her way to the rooms she knows Fenris has used as his bedroom this whole time, her stomach pulled into knots. I'm not breaking up with him, I shouldn't be this nervous.
(Of course, to break up with him, she'd have to actually be with him - and Marian Hawke, a mage, isn't stupid enough to think she stands a single fleeting chance, knowing all of his opinions of mages, overall.)
"Fenris, it's me," she announces before stepping into the room, just to avoid having to dodge a weaponised wine bottle.
Edited 2021-10-16 15:22 (UTC)
I told you I'm terrible </3 thanks for your patience!
Kirkwall in the wake of...everything is unsettled and unsettling. It is always remarkable to see the resilience of people in the aftermath of such devastation, but wounds and walls can take much time to repair. Fenris feels listless more often now, with Hawke less likely and able to go gallivanting. He assists with some rebuilding projects within the city and meets with her to continue his learning, but more and more it's hard to tell if his restlessness or the undiscussed strange tension between them that frays his focus.
Perhaps...it is time...
Of course he seems to summon her presence with just a thought. Perhaps if he were still as paranoid as he once was, Fenris would assume she was spying on them somehow. His pulse jumps briefly, as it always does, when she breaks into his solitude. He's reading - or attempting to, the words seem to stretch and blur on the page as his mind continually drifts. The fire flickers weakly, starving for another log, opposite the threadbare chair.
"So it is," he intones dryly, gladly setting aside the book and pushing himself easily from the chair. His eyes flicker over her form and face briefly, looking for signs of -- well, anything. There's a tension in her, one that seems to leap the distance between them and crawl to pinch between his shoulders. Fenris feels his brow furrow slightly, but otherwise keeps a neutral expression.
"Is there a particular reason for the honor of your visit?"
! all good! unlike hawke's magic, i'm cool with a slow burn (badum tsch)
She's in two minds about the fire, and this is easier to focus on: on one hand, she could revive it with a spell and make his hearth warmer for longer, but on the other hand, it's almost sunrise and if the fire dies down completely, he won't be cold. In truth, maybe she wants to let the fire go, so he'll consider going with her.
But that is selfish, and she is trying to stop being selfish.
Either way, the bag on her back should be explanation enough, but she tells him anyway: "Varric's sent a letter... There's trouble stirring in Thedas, sky split open, the Fade - " She shakes her head, to clear it, and takes a deep breath. "I have to go... and fix it. I wanted to tell you - in person."
She twists the strap of her bag in both hands, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek as she takes him in. Hers is not a neutral expression this time.
"You'll...be well here, yes? If this place ever feels like too much, I've told Bodhan to welcome you into my home - someone's gotta use it."
The look of confusion plain on his face gives way to stunned. Fenris stares at her, briefly shocked into silence at the clear implications of her words. Of course he can hardly blame her for wanting to go after Varric - the dwarf had been carted off by some Chantry people not long after the incident while they'd had to flee the city. But--
"You don't want me to come with you?" The words are incredulous and out of his mouth before he really thinks about them. Hawke intends to just go on her own, or perhaps take someone else. But who? Nearly everyone else had scattered for one reason or another. It was unlike her to run off and do something alone, unless she felt especially responsible. Guilty.
The second question stirs up from a strangely bitter place. "Why does it have to be you?"
but all jokes aside i love slowly chipping away at psl tags so you get back to it whenever, all good
This may have been a conversation she's had with Varric in the past, where the dwarf cleverly pointed out her tendency towards emotional masochism. As Fenris' expression shifts from confusion to shock, her throat closes up with the tension, and that observation rings true: maybe she's here to see Fenris get mad at her, so she can use that guilt as a stick to beat herself with on the road.
And then he asks her that. You don't want me to come with you?
"Fenris..." she starts, around the knot in her throat; clears her throat quickly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "I can't ask you to, not this time. This is further afield than Kirkwall, further than the Wounded Coast, and it's more dangerous..."
She stops. Pauses, and sighs, and adds: "Not - I don't mean that you wouldn't be able to handle it, I know you would. I'm just trying to not drag my loved ones into danger with me again." A little bitter laugh, "After everything that happened in Kirkwall, you all deserve a rest."
And it has been long enough for the fires to have died down, but her safety and reputation in Kirkwall is still tenuous enough that she could leave, and the city would probably celebrate it. She may not have been the apostate to blow the Chantry up, but she is still remembered to have travelled with him, worked with him, and the old city holds grudges. (So does Marian, who remembers gullibly helping Anders get all the ingredients for that bomb, stupidly believing it was with the intention of separating himself from Justice.)
And she resolutely ignores the second question, because she doesn't have a good answer for him. All she knows is that she can't leave Varric and his Inquisitor friend to face Corypheus alone. All she knows is that Grey Wardens are starting to disappear and it makes her worry for Carver.
"You say that like you aren't the reason why I've stayed in Kirkwall this long in the first place."
Because really, what did Kirkwall have for him without her here? That he had ended up in the city in the first place had been a matter of chance and survival. She had factored greatly into that reasoning for his decision to stay. And then eventually...she had become the only reason. Certainly there were things about Kirkwall itself that he had grown fond of, but none of them were enough to make him stay. Fenris felt no real duty or obligation to the city.
Fenris folds his arms, peering at her suspiciously, as though he could unwind all of Hawke's words to find what she is too reluctant to say with a look.
"Do you really think this city is going to be more restful now, than before, after what happened?"
She lets out a bitter laugh at that, because he's right. "It's Kirkwall. The city's never known rest, even before the..." Mage unrest, templars' corruption, Chantry going boom? She has been saved from execution simply by having been proclaimed the Champion, but at this point there have been so many petitions (for her marriage, for her arrest, for her punishment, for her exultation) that she knew for weeks her days in Kirkwall would be numbered.
Maybe Varric's letter just gives her the excuse. She pulls a face. "I'm not sure how long its generosity towards me will last," with generosity dripped in sarcasm, because Kirkwall mostly takes. "But I - wait."
His words finally sink in, amidst all her layers of sass, and for a moment she is startled into silence. "I'm the reason you stay here?"
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(Bethany would've handled these much better. Hell, even Carver, probably. But Mother had to deal with the reckless apostate daughter, not the nice and friendly one, and Carver's whole becoming a Grey Warden schtick has kind of jammed a stick in the wheel of his destiny as minor Kirkwall gentry. So, it's Marian who skirts around these things, Marian who avoids them as her only way to not disappoint the ghost of her mother - or worse, her father.)
It's a good thing Varric uses a fabulous wax seal that she'd recognise anywhere, or else his letter would've ended in the bin with the rest of them. As it is, she picks it up from the pile, sweeping the others (notes from long lost cousins asking for money, requests from the sons of Free Marcher nobles asking for audience, reminders to pay taxes, so on) into the bin, and incinerating them with a quick fireball, which takes less effort than the flick of her fingers.
Ten minutes later, she almost wishes she'd tossed the letter out too, and not found out about this.
It's Wednesday morning, when she makes her way across Hightown to the empty home that Fenris is still claiming as his own, under the cover of darkness. She's spoken to Isabela last night, and the woman's ready to set sail with sunrise; for Aveline and Merrill, she's left notes. For Fenris, however, it feels...rude, not to tell him in person. She can't forget the look in his eyes, years past now, when he'd finally uncovered the truth of his sister, of Danarius, of who he supposedly was. So Hawke isn't keen to add her name to the list of people that disappoint him, or abandon him. (Besides, she's still helping him with his letters, so maybe forcing him to read a rambling message about why she has to go and might die is not the best idea.)
The door is, as usually, unlocked. She steps inside and makes her way to the rooms she knows Fenris has used as his bedroom this whole time, her stomach pulled into knots. I'm not breaking up with him, I shouldn't be this nervous.
(Of course, to break up with him, she'd have to actually be with him - and Marian Hawke, a mage, isn't stupid enough to think she stands a single fleeting chance, knowing all of his opinions of mages, overall.)
"Fenris, it's me," she announces before stepping into the room, just to avoid having to dodge a weaponised wine bottle.
I told you I'm terrible </3 thanks for your patience!
Perhaps...it is time...
Of course he seems to summon her presence with just a thought. Perhaps if he were still as paranoid as he once was, Fenris would assume she was spying on them somehow. His pulse jumps briefly, as it always does, when she breaks into his solitude. He's reading - or attempting to, the words seem to stretch and blur on the page as his mind continually drifts. The fire flickers weakly, starving for another log, opposite the threadbare chair.
"So it is," he intones dryly, gladly setting aside the book and pushing himself easily from the chair. His eyes flicker over her form and face briefly, looking for signs of -- well, anything. There's a tension in her, one that seems to leap the distance between them and crawl to pinch between his shoulders. Fenris feels his brow furrow slightly, but otherwise keeps a neutral expression.
"Is there a particular reason for the honor of your visit?"
! all good! unlike hawke's magic, i'm cool with a slow burn (badum tsch)
But that is selfish, and she is trying to stop being selfish.
Either way, the bag on her back should be explanation enough, but she tells him anyway: "Varric's sent a letter... There's trouble stirring in Thedas, sky split open, the Fade - " She shakes her head, to clear it, and takes a deep breath. "I have to go... and fix it. I wanted to tell you - in person."
She twists the strap of her bag in both hands, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek as she takes him in. Hers is not a neutral expression this time.
"You'll...be well here, yes? If this place ever feels like too much, I've told Bodhan to welcome you into my home - someone's gotta use it."
hahaha
"You don't want me to come with you?" The words are incredulous and out of his mouth before he really thinks about them. Hawke intends to just go on her own, or perhaps take someone else. But who? Nearly everyone else had scattered for one reason or another. It was unlike her to run off and do something alone, unless she felt especially responsible. Guilty.
The second question stirs up from a strangely bitter place. "Why does it have to be you?"
but all jokes aside i love slowly chipping away at psl tags so you get back to it whenever, all good
And then he asks her that. You don't want me to come with you?
"Fenris..." she starts, around the knot in her throat; clears her throat quickly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "I can't ask you to, not this time. This is further afield than Kirkwall, further than the Wounded Coast, and it's more dangerous..."
She stops. Pauses, and sighs, and adds: "Not - I don't mean that you wouldn't be able to handle it, I know you would. I'm just trying to not drag my loved ones into danger with me again." A little bitter laugh, "After everything that happened in Kirkwall, you all deserve a rest."
And it has been long enough for the fires to have died down, but her safety and reputation in Kirkwall is still tenuous enough that she could leave, and the city would probably celebrate it. She may not have been the apostate to blow the Chantry up, but she is still remembered to have travelled with him, worked with him, and the old city holds grudges. (So does Marian, who remembers gullibly helping Anders get all the ingredients for that bomb, stupidly believing it was with the intention of separating himself from Justice.)
And she resolutely ignores the second question, because she doesn't have a good answer for him. All she knows is that she can't leave Varric and his Inquisitor friend to face Corypheus alone. All she knows is that Grey Wardens are starting to disappear and it makes her worry for Carver.
"I'm sorry."
;; <3
Because really, what did Kirkwall have for him without her here? That he had ended up in the city in the first place had been a matter of chance and survival. She had factored greatly into that reasoning for his decision to stay. And then eventually...she had become the only reason. Certainly there were things about Kirkwall itself that he had grown fond of, but none of them were enough to make him stay. Fenris felt no real duty or obligation to the city.
Fenris folds his arms, peering at her suspiciously, as though he could unwind all of Hawke's words to find what she is too reluctant to say with a look.
"Do you really think this city is going to be more restful now, than before, after what happened?"
no subject
Maybe Varric's letter just gives her the excuse. She pulls a face. "I'm not sure how long its generosity towards me will last," with generosity dripped in sarcasm, because Kirkwall mostly takes. "But I - wait."
His words finally sink in, amidst all her layers of sass, and for a moment she is startled into silence. "I'm the reason you stay here?"