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“Don’t. Tempt. Me.”
Fenris glances at Garrett with a concerned look, reaching out to grab his arm but watches as the Champion flinches away. His heart broke the first few times Garrett had flinched away, but now was used to it. “You’re one of them.” The elf inhaled slowly, doing his best to keep it quiet. He looks to the silent man who flinches from every being who touches him. “Tempt you of what?”
“I will slay you down myself, demon. You have taken everything away from me, I’ll take away the form you have of the man I love.”
Garrett Hawke. Once a man who used humor in the most inappropriate situations, sarcasm to the town’s greatest leaders who sought to tear him down and drown him in the river of blood that he had created, the one who watched his family die one by one like apples falling from a tree and molding as they were left abandoned on the ground for weeks, much like Bethany’s corpse in the deep road, Carver’s corpse after the ogre had torn him to pieces and much like Leandra’s corpse when it collapsed after the blood mage who reshaped her had been defeated. He was a man with no patience, but was nothing but patient after Fenris had left him after memories stabbing him in the back on their first night together, when Merrill needed assistance with the demon she had been with for years, when Isabela needed assistance with her theft of the Qunari relic, when Anders had blown the chantry up. He was an angel with blood on his clothes. He was sent from above, perhaps not the maker, but somebody else.
Fenris did not flinch at the words. Garrett held an icy glare while Fenris held a soft gaze, the intense staring interrupted by Garrett’s grumbling stomach. “The sounds your stomach make – annoy me. Come, let us find you something to eat.”
“Truly you couldn’t kiss me first? If you are a demon pretending to be Fenris, you could be kind like last time. Feed me a feast, take a warm bath then we make some pretty damn good love all night long.” Garrett complains, looking away from Fenris and towards the door. “Nope. I’m not some demon looking to kiss your feet or coddle you. You’re Hawke. Garrett Hawke, a strong man who is more then capable of fetching himself his desires.”
Garrett scoffs then laughs. “How do I fetch my desire to get you out of my face? You’re a demon who lives for no other purpose then to taunt me. Taunt, taunt, taunt. Fuck off.”
The bowl is half empty when he is finished with it. Fenris is pleased but doesn’t let it show. “I suppose that is good enough. You actually are eating.” Garrett groans. “Okay mother. Yeah – If I ate anymore of that piss tasting stuff I’d probably be dead for real. No more of this fade crap-“ He pauses for a moment, coming to a sudden realization as he reaches for the bowl. “Actually, hand me that bowl. Maybe the rest of it will finish me off.”
Fenris rolls his eyes and yanks the bowl away, clearly unimpressed and begins to finish off the rest of the bowl. “I believe my food preparing and making skills are quite decent, excuse you.”
“I prefer the ravishing feast that left me full for days and mouth watering for the next meal course.” Fenris arches his eyebrow, not convinced as he finishes off the bowl of food and leaves Hawke to walk over to the door. “Go to bed, no bedtime story tonight.” The elf teased as he walks out the door, shutting it to allow Hawke some privacy.
Garrett sighs, he turns his attention to a mirror in the room and notices his worsened condition. His eyes that carried bags now were over cumbered with them, strands of his raven hair were falling out, his skin was littered with more scars and a lighter pale then before. His body dropped weight – noticeably.
Confusion was a word that summed up thousands of emotions that Garrett had felt. In other confrontations with demons who posed as his family, friends – Fenris. He was healthier, booming with laughter, body surrounded with hot water, stomach full of the best food in all of Thedas. He was healthy – nobody needed his help anymore, he could focus on himself.
Instead, he was no longer the strong champion, only the weak walking corpse of what the bold spirit left behind. In his mind, he was the next apple to fall from the tree of the Hawke family and left to rot on the ground for weeks, months, years to come.
He scoffs. “Psh, looks like the fucking demons are getting more aggressive with their realities.” He runs a hand through his hair, ignoring the worry that zapped his body and overflowed his body.. “Couldn’t even make me look attractive. “ He undoes his casual clothes, sliding them off and slides on comfortable trousers. Garrett climbs into the small bed, covering his body with a blanket as if it was a shield from the demons that looked to haunt him and tear his mind open mentally so it’d mess with him physically.
“How’s the bastard?” Varric slides over a tankard of some wine for Fenris who accepts it and gulps down a sip immediately. He brings his shoulders up then down quickly, a shrug. “As best as could be, suppose. He has moved on from the mad suicidal phase. We went on a walk a few days ago – to get out of the room, and he nearly jumped off the bridge. He truly thinks I’m a demon who seeks to harm him.”
The dwarf winces, noting the amount of stress Fenris must be under. “So, Broody, you got a plan to break Hawke out of this demonic spell?”
“At the moment, I’m not coddling him like the demons have. The demons that have took my body as a form to fool with Garrett have given him nothing but love, amazing feasts, warm baths, treating him like a king.” Another pause, to sip the wine that tingled his throat. “I’m simply treating him how Kirkwall treated him. No special treatments, just the bare minimum to keep him alive.”
“Ah yeah, that’ll show him you aren’t some demon and you’re actually his husband.”
A flush rises to Fenris’s cheeks, chuckling softly as he sips his wine. “I… am not his husband, we have spoken of exchanging such titles.”
“Is that a title you want some day?” The dwarf asks, he is taking mental notes of Fenris’s demeaner. He can read anyone as if they were one of his novels, he knows Fenris is flustered and a secret hope lingers within him. “Someday, I’d like to be his husband yes. It’s a future I hope he and I have together.”
“Trust me, Broody. Hawke is absolutely whipped for you. You’ll be his husband one day, and your wedding will be held in Hightown, I’ll have the whole town bowing at your guys’s feets and kissing the ground you walk on.” He continues his fantasy and it would be a lie if Fenris was listening with hope. He would like to wed Garrett one day, he and Hawke rarely ever speak about it. Yet it was a fantasy both dreamt of.
Morning creeps quickly and this time, there is so sunshine pouring through the windows like the other fantasies Garrett has lived through. Outside, it is storming and rain drips off the window. Fed up with being inside for the past month, he slides light armor on, getting used to the multiple buckles and grabbed two of his silver knives that had been used to create puddles of blood over his ten years in Kirkwall and he heads to the training part of Skyhold.
Fenris sits on the grass with a book in his hand, the words just slipping through his eyes and out his brain. The words are scrambled, he does not pay attention to them. Instead, he pays close attention to Garrett who wears a piece of what Fenris predicts to be curtain over his eyes to shield them from seeing his target.
His target – a stuffed tummy, Garrett is practicing throwing knives. Fenris watches as one strikes through the dummy, stuffing peeking through the new rip.
The former Champion lifts his blindfold, glancing at the knives he threw. One sits near between the eyes, surely to take out an enemy no matter how powerful. The other, just above the crotch. He snickers, then bursts into a fit of giggles. How childish. Fenris thinks but a smile creeps upon his face, letting the song of his love’s laugh play on repeat in record of his mind.
“Hey, Fen.” Fenris’s white eyebrows shoot up, he does not look at the words on paper anymore and instead up at Hawke. A sudden urge to cry reaches his desires, words scramble at his throat and his mind is halting them, won’t let them drip out like they need to. That was the first time in – months, that Garrett had spoken any part of Fenris’s name.
Fenris attempts to act in a casual manner, glancing up from his book. “Can I assist you, Hawke?”
“C’mon, try to be a nice demon and be somewhat affectionate you brood.” He sits next to Fenris, even though they are close there is still a large amount of distance between the two. Yet, Fenris could not help but feel that the road is smaller now. The simple action of saying his name was enough to bring them closer. “I have told you, I am not a demon. I am offended, why should I act affectionate if you believe I, your love, am a demon?”
Garrett groans, clearly frustrated as he rolls his eyes. “I dunno, cause you’re some temptation demon?” He shrugs. “More like a bitchy demon right now.”
“I do not think that is such a demon.”
“Could you induldge me a little bit, please?” His soft plea is almost enough to tug at Fenris’s heart. He should not give in, yet he does a little bit and presses a soft kiss to the top of Garrett’s greasy hair. “There. Now, go continue your training and leave me to read.” Garrett lays his head over Fenris’s thighs, the rain pouring on the parts of them that are not covered by the sheltering roof that is keeping Fenris’s book from becoming soaked. Fenris goes to move his legs in shock, but Garrett hands onto them as if it is dear life.
“Just… Just let me for a moment, please.” He begs, his voice goes softer.
Fenris lets him.
They sit like that for a few moments. Garrett presses a soft, shaking kiss to Fenris’s clothed thigh and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. And they do. They fall onto his love’s trousers and he whispers.
“How I wish you were real. How I wish this were real. How I wish, but – “ He laughs. “- This universe takes everything from me. I should’ve known Corphyeus and his fucking minions would take you away too.” Garrett is fuming, his hand clenches into a fist and is near ready to punch something but he stays. “Nothing ever stays.”
Fenris does not respond. Garrett’s words are replaced with the sounds of the rain. What Garrett did not know, was the demons were replaced with Fenris.
“Would you mind telling me how you choose to leave Hawke behind in the fade?” Fenris demands an answer. The Inquisitor – the one who stands in front of him with his back turned to the former slave, has the answer that Fenris wants. He turns around, Fenris recognizes the face. The most memorable thing about it, the scar that traveled over his eyebrow and over his eye.
“Fenris.” Elora greeted. His old friend, stands there with anything but a welcoming look. The one who was responsible for Garrett’s fucked up mindset. “Hawke… It was between him or Alistair. Alistair represented a whole organization –“
“A whole organization gone mad! One who serves this lord that is Corphyeus! They were foolish enough to give in- “ Elora interrupts him. His look is the look of somebody who took a bite of a sour edible. “An organization that needed to be rebuilt. Would you like to be wiped out come the next blight?” Silence. “Hawke gave himself up, sacrificed himself. He knew the risks, I allowed him to run in. It was a sudden decision left up to me!”
“He is damaged. The demons have taunted and twisted him inside and out.”
“Fenris. You and I both know Hawke is not broken, he is bent.”
Fenris knew that. He understood that Hawke is not damaged, he knew that if Hawke would not return from the fade like he had been blessed with – he would be okay one day, he knew that losing Hawke was definitely a nightmare that could become a reality.
“You – You are right. I apologize, Elora.” The inquisitor chuckles. “A sour reunion. Not the one I was dreaming of.” Fenris shakes his head. “I regret my words, I apologize. Let’s have a drink later, friend.”
Fenris returns to Garrett over Varric with one of his sharpest knives. Sweat drips down his forehead, a bunch of Varric’s shirt is bunched in Garrett’s tight gripped fist. “YOU! Continue to taunt me! By possessing the form of my best friend! No longer you damn demon.” Garrett laughs in a nervous manner, Varric has his hands up as the fool continues to negotiate his life.
“Hawke, Garrett, it’s me! Your best friend! I’m not some fuckin’ demon!”
Garrett laughs once more. “You believe I’m going to fall for those foolish words once more?”
Within a second, Garrett is restrained and is pushed against a table. Varric takes a few quick breaths and stands back up from leaning against the table, he looks at Fenris who is pinning Garrett down. His knife is still being tightly gripped in his hand.
“Garrett…” Fenris’s tone is a warning shot. He does not need to speak the words for Garrett to understand what he wants. “This is the only thing I have any possible hope of protecting me, you fools!” His words are a roar, he is trying desperately to be the predator but he is the prey. He is the prey of many, he is convinced that Fenris and Varric are now the predators waiting to rip him open once more.
“Drop the knife.” Fenris commands gently. Garrett rolls his eyes and shakes his head the best he could. “Hell with you, demon.” He growls.
Varric goes to rip the knife from Garrett’s closed fist. Fenris shoots him a glare and shakes his head. The dwarf looks at him as if he’s mad, yet backs up anyway and obeys Fenris’s instruction.
“Fine, Garrett. You keep the knife, or you drop it.” Fenris steps away from Garrett and stands there, with a calm posture and emotionless look painted on his face. His arms cross. “You going to stab your best friend? Do it. If you’re convinced the demon will leap out of him and you are sitting in some fade puddle, awaiting for possession, or another demon to screw with you.”
A realization hits Garrett. Yet, so does confusion.
He turns his back to both his best friend and love, he shakes his head in frustration. “You… the other demons – the dreams, the realities, maker… - They all did what I wanted. I had control.”
“Reality does not give you complete control, Hawke.” Varric announces with a gentle tone. Fenris steps forward and gazes at Hawke, holding his hand out. “You have complete control over this, Hawke. Hand me the knife or don’t.” He pauses, letting it sink in. “You have control.”
There is then silence. Garrett glances down at the knife, then to Varric and finally settles a gaze on Fenris. “I have control…” He mutters, tucking his knife in his sleeve. “I’m keeping it.” He announces, Fenris nods.
“I don’t expect a dagger in the throat by the time I wake up.” Varric hopes as he walks off, leaving the two to be alone.
I have control. Garrett realizes.
A week later, it is still pouring in Skyhold. Garrett and Fenris decide to sit outside, identical to the one day last week when Garrett was venting at the dumbies with his knife tossing.
Garrett’s trust in Fenris built up slowly each day, separation made them stronger. Each time Garrett realized he had control over whatever he wanted to do and the demons simply would not coddle him, and knew that others would not submit to him slowly convinced him that perhaps, this was a reality. Or a very, very cruel nightmare.
Garrett finishes stabbing the dumbies, practicing knife throwing and slides his protector into his pocket and searches for Fenris with his eyes. He finds he is near the garden where the witch – Morrigan would stand with her son, Kieran. Garrett walks over to him, knows he can turn away anytime.
He knows he has control over himself, and others have control over themselves.
He chooses to walk, eventually walking turned to running and he ran up behind Fenris and hugged him from behind in a tight hug. One of his arm goes across Fenris’s torso, identical to one of his buckles and one slant of an X. The other, forms the other slant of the X.
Tears begin to stream down his face again, overwhelmed with the amount of love he has for Fenris and the amount of fear that this wasn’t his love. That this wasn’t the real Fenris.
Fenris is shock by the sudden impact and lets it show, so Fenris can let Garrett know this is reality and he felt other emotions then simply wanting to make everything perfect for Hawke. To let the ground be clean of the blood he spilt of his enemies. He slowly slides his hand over one of Garrett’s, allowing him to speak first.
“Please –“ He begs. “Show me… Show me you are Fenris, show me you’re the man I love – Maker’s breath, please, Fenris. If you are there, show me you’re you. Show me you’re Fenris.” He begs. The begs tug at Fenris’s heartstrings as if they are the puppet. Yet, Garrett was the puppet for the puppeteer’s – the demons – amusement for months. The elf nods and slowly slides his free hand into his pocket and slides out the red scarf that had been worn on Fenris’s wrist for several years since the first night they had slept together.
Before Garrett could object, Fenris begins to tell the story that only he would know.
Fenris is spooned in Garrett’s arms, his back against the chest of the man he had been in love with for some time. Garrett sits up a few minutes later and gets up from the bed, Fenris watches him with curiosity as he watches Garrett make his way across the room, suddenly uncomfortable from the lack of chest to lay against.
Garrett scrambles through a small box, clearly full of meaningful possessions. Two minutes later as Fenris is about to call out for him, Garrett pulls out two things and quickly walks over to Fenris, sitting on his side of the bed and slides the possessions over to Fenris. He gazes down in curiosity, holding one of them.
One was a crescent. Of the Amell symbol, and the other a red scarf.
“Hawke…?”
Garrett coughed nervously. “Its uh – I know I’m not the gift master but uh,” His words were scrambled. Fenris smiled slightly and softly chuckled. “You for once are at a loss of words, a rare sight indeed.” He softly teased. Garrett shot him a playful glare.
“I just…” He silently asks for permission to take Fenris’s wrist, which is granted and he ties the red scarf around it. “I… don’t have anything other, better – really. So, I guess this is to show that I’m serious about you. About… us.” He confessed.
Even when Fenris left two hours later, Garrett did not regret giving him the crescent or the scarf that was tied with the promise of Garrett loving Fenris. He sat there, hoping Fenris would realize he was serious and would wait for him. No matter what.
“Only… Only you would know that. Only Fenris would know that.” Fenris nods, understanding the sudden realization of his love and how confusing it must be. “I am Fenris, last time I checked.” Garrett hugs Fenris tighter, tighter then he had in a very long time. He shudders, tears spill in Fenris’s white locks as Garrett buries his face in it.
“You – You’re Fenris.” He spins his love around and strokes his cheek, rushing to kiss Fenris’s cheek and he does. He then kisses his forehead. His other cheek. His nose. Fenris chuckles, eyes closing as Garrett presses soft kisses upon the thin skin of his eyelids. Then, what he had been waiting for several months for, he feels Garrett’s lips press against his.
They kiss like that for a long while, taking short breaks to catch their fast pacing breaths.
“Maker – Maker, Fenris I am so sorry.” Garrett allows his words to scramble and flow out messily, knowing he could not plan them and let them come out in good form. Fenris brings his hand to Garrett’s cheek and softly strokes it. The touch is painful for both, it is a touch they have both ached to have for several months. A simple touch they fear would not happen again.
“It is understandable, Garrett.”
“I suppose I should go apologize to Varric.” Fenris grins. “You did nearly stab the man to death, convinced he was a demon.”
“Wouldn’t shock me. With the filth he writes.”
It’s later that evening, they are in their personal quarters and Fenris climbs into the cold bed with Garrett who is waiting with open arms. Fenris lays on his bare chest. Garrett laughs. “You enjoying my manly pillows?” Referring to his open chest.
Fenris rolls his eyes, softly laughing. “Absolutely.”
This was simple. It was a simple evening for any other couple in Thedas, but this was the long awaited reunion Garrett and Fenris had prayed to the Maker and or any other creator out there. Garrett fell asleep soon after and Fenris admired his beloved’s slightly relaxed face. His body wasn’t completely free of the tension, but some was released.
The warrior presses a gentle kiss to Garrett’s shoulder, allowing his lips to linger on the skin of the man he loved dearly before pressing another one out of pure indulgence. He lays his head over Garrett’s chest once more, listening to the heart beating.
“One day soon, perhaps I will ask you to be my husband. I do not think we will get a better time then this.” He begins to ramble softly, aware that there is the small possibility the sleeping Champion could hear him. “But for now – you are my love, bounded to me.” He looks up, pressing a kiss to Garrett’s chest.
“Thank you for trusting in me, Garrett.” He could feel tears poke at his eyes. “Welcome home, welcome back, we missed you.”
Soft whimpers leave Fenris as he tries not to shudder, not allow his sobs of happiness and relief to wake Hawke out of his well-deserved slumber. “I – I have missed you.”
Garrett hears every word.