1.push
[quote]Margaret_TheElf wrote...
Prompt Theme: Push!
Extra Special Blah Blah Blah: FemHawke is named Margaret, she is a rogue, and Carver is alive.
As the smell of chocolate wafted throughout the small house, I imagined what it would have been like if I had been taught how to bake by my mother: we'd all be eating shoe leather rather than the rock like muffins my mother could produce (I was never sure if it was the recipe or her ability to bake).
If I stood still and listened closely, I would be able to hear Carver blissfully snoring from the other end of the house. I, however, was more pre-occupied with another noise; one like the sound of barefeet going softly through the grass.
Was Fenris upset with me? He certainley seemed to be earlier when I had handcuffed his wrist to my own as a joke. Varric had laughed, Aveline had smiled, Carver was horrified, but Fenris...the expression in his moss green eys was seemed to be pain, maybe anger. You could hear something in his voice as he quietly asked me to uncuff him.
A gentle knock on the door had drawn me away from the thoughts I was dwelling upon. Fenris, as I had guessed, was standing in the archway of the door. He politley asked to come in, and his nostrils flared as he came in, his bare feet sliding on the glossy wood floor. I thought he had smelled the muffins.
"You could have one, if you like." I offered, "They're fresh." Fenris shook his head, "No, thank you....is Carver here?"
"Yes, but he is asleep. Trying to wake him up would be like trying to wake up a boulder with a broken dog whistle."
The faintest smile slightly formed onto Fenris' lips, "Good...I needed to speak with you alone, anyways."
My throat began to tie itself into a paniced knot. "A-about earlier?" The slender, yet masculine elf turned to face me, "I suppose it may be similar..." and he began to slowly swagger towards me.
I found myself backing away, and I started to stammer, "I-I apologize, my friend. It was extremely unkind of me--"
My back pressed itself to a solid wall, and I was unable to back up anymore as Fenris drew even nearer.
He now was before me, his shadow looming over. I opened my mouth to speak, when Fenris had abruptly pinned my wrists to the wall, and stooped down to kiss my throat. I was paralyzed with surprise and confusion. His lips slid across my skin to the side of my neck, repeatedly pressing his mouth on and teasing the skin with his teeth. I did not have the strength, nor the willpower to even think about pushing him off; instead, my fingers flaccidly twitched as my heart rate increased.
Fenris was done with my neck, and advanced onto my jawline, and then to my ear, his teeth grazing the lobe.
I was able to finally breath, before he had reached my mouth, "W-what are you doing?" He had paused, his warm breath was raggedly filling my ear, sounding as if he was excited as myself.
"Serving you..." he whispered, leaning his head back only slightly enough to look me in my eyes, "...being your slave."
Before I was able to speak anymore, he had released my wrists to put his hands on my face, and pulled himself to me, roughly pressing his warm mouth onto mine, keeping me pinned to the wall with his body. I could not tell if this was forgiveness, or something....else. Whatever it was at the moment, I cared not.
So there I was; moving with Fenris as he was as he had me pushed against the wall, the sound of both our racing heart beats drowning the sound of Carver's clueless snores.
[/quote]
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[quote]Deliciously-Demonic wrote...
Prompt: Push
A slightly darker take on a Fen/Lady!Hawke romance.
Regardless, I hope you enjoy it.[quote]She feared. Not for him. Or herself. She wasn't afraid of him. Or was she? She bit back the impulse to gasp as her back slammed against the wall. And Fenris knew it. He leaned across, a small smirk playing on his lips, and into Hawke's ear he breathed, "Are you afraid of me?"
"No." She answered quickly.
"Then what are you afraid of?"
"Why would I tell you that?" Hawke replied slowly. "One who allows their enemy knows their fears is a fool."
"And am I the enemy?" she paused. Was he? Did she consider him an enemy, a rival? Not really. She slightly enjoyed this little game of possession and dominance they played. And he enjoyed it far more, she could tell.
"You are not my enemy," Hawke answered. "My feelings for you are the enemy." she smirked as his body siezed at the unexpected answer.
"Foolish human," he chuckled, slipping away from his shock quickly. "Submitting yourself to pathetic emotions."
"You don't fool me, Fenris." Hawke murmured into his ear. "You have emotions, despite that stoic mask you put on for the others."
"You know nothing of my emotions." he spat, pulling away quickly.
"I know you hate. I know you anger. I know you fear." Hawke met his gaze softly. "Do you hate me, Fenris?" He was silent. "I see." she moved to walk past him, but was instantly pushed back against the wall; she winced.
"I don't hate you." he said evenly. "I hate the fact that I can't hate you."
"Then what are your feelings of me?" he was silent again. "Shall I make my own assumptions, then?" Hawke stood on her toes and brushed her lips against his. He flinched back.
"You're pushing your luck, woman."
"Yeah, I do that a lot." she pressed her lips against his once more, and was happily surprised that he didn't pull away again.
[/quote][/quote]
----------------------------
[quote]Dr. Doctor wrote...
Push:
(Hawke and company are fighting off raiders in the streets of Lowtown)
Varric: Blood and damnation Hawke! The raiders have too much cover here, we'll have to fall back to a better position!
Hawke: There is no better position Varric! If they gain anymore ground they could reach more populated areas.
Varric: Well that's all fine and dandy, but that won't do us any good if were dead! I can't get a shot off on these stairs.
Fenris: How about some death from above then dwarf?
Varric: Don't push your luck elf, the last time we tried that trick Bianca was in the shop for repairs for a month.
Fenris: Dwarf, a broken crossbow will be the least of our worries if these raiders catch up to us. (shields eyes as Hawke fires off a bolt of lightning)
Varric: A valid point my elven friend, alright let's give them a little death from above!
(Varric loads a fresh clip of bolts into Bianca and is picked up by Fenris. The elf then proceeds to throw the dwarf like a javelin, whilst in flight Varric lets loose a hail of crossbow bolts that shreds the advancing rank of raiders, sending them toppling down the stairs of Lowtown. As he falls out of the air Varric curls himself into a ball and rolls upon impact with the ground.)
Varric: That was surprisingly effective. Good call elf.
Fenris: See Varric, I'm full of good ideas, you should listen to me more often.
Varric: Don't push it buddy.[/quote]
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[quote]Experimentel wrote...
Prompt: Push
Fenris’s eyes roved around the small tavern, searching for a certain face. He didn’t catch the familiar eyes he was hunting for but he did find Merill’s. She caught his gaze and then her eyes flickered out the side door somehow knowing who he was searching for.
He slipped through the crowd, avoiding the bawdy crowd and walked into the night air. The silence and cold bite was a welcome relief to the overheated and loudness of the bar. A woman stood in the courtyard some ways away from the door, her back to him. Wild and tangled hair spilled to her lower back and when he moved closer, she did not turn.
Fenris was used to Logan’s completive state, having seen her fall into this several times. More often than not these days, he found himself wondering what was on her mind. He stepped closer and she glanced over her shoulder warily, ever on guard. When she saw it was him, her lips pulled up ever so slightly and her visible eye glimmered in welcome. A warm feeling settled in his stomach as it always did – she seemed ever so eager to welcome him around her and it was something he had begun to look forward to.
“What brings you here Fenris?” She inquired, crossing her arms over her chest. She had traded her armor for something more casual – a simple lawn shirt and breeches. She was also barefoot, like him. Her eye caught his gaze and she chuckled low in her chest. It was a dark rich sound he’d also grown accustomed to.
“I took a lesson from you. It is very pleasant to feel the grass again.” Logan said and smiled. “Even if my toes might get stepped on.”
He wasn’t too sure what to make of the statement so he took it with caution as always but he felt the beginnings of a smile on his face. She looked happy about seeing the expression and it enticed a little more of a smile.
“I came to talk.” He replied to her earlier question and she tilted her head slightly in question, the black hair falling over her blue eye.
“What of?”
Isabela’s words came back to him and he found himself confused what to do. Logan waited, seemingly endlessly patient. As she had always been. Isabela’s suggestion had seemed so easy before but now standing before the object of his confusion, he found himself reaching for broken strings. He stepped closer and met her eyes. She didn’t attempt to move away but instead searched his face, her confusion reflecting his own.
Isabela had lied when she said it would be simple. He was now just a footstep away from her and could feel the warmth of her skin. Fenris tried to stifle the instinctive sensation of fleeing and Logan slowly uncrossed her arms. It suddenly became very hard to meet her eyes.
He saw the hand she reached out and then hesitantly pulled back, unsure of what to do. It surprised him, she was never unsure. Then she took a deep breath and raised a hand to his cheek. He immediately flinched, expecting maybe that she would hit him although deep down he knew she would never do it. Or maybe it was just a failing hope.
Ever so hesitant, she rested her hand on his cheek. He tensed reactively. She simply left it there, waiting for him to grow used to the sensation before gently making him look at her, an unspoken question in her eye.
He answered it by leaning over and softly pressing his lip against hers. Fenris didn’t even think of the action but the moment he did it, he realized that this was the right answer. This time Logan tensed and he pulled back. Instead of anger, like he had expected, there was surprise bright in her face, her mouth was slightly open and her cheeks were red. He couldn’t help the ghost of a smile on his face. Fenris had caught her completely off guard.
Logan blinked and then blinked again. Once she opened her mouth to say something but then shut it again. It struck him as… silly.
Instead he leaned over and pressed his lips against hers again and felt her lips turn up in a smile. This time, she kissed him back.
[/quote]
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[quote] Tankgirly wrote...
[/quote]2.cages
[quote]Nassi wrote...
prompt Cages
[/quote]3.curiousity
[quote]Margaret_TheElf wrote....
Prompt: Curiosity
[/quote]-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[quote]Dr. Doctor wrote...
Curiosity:
Merrill: You know Fenris, your markings remind me of the blood writing of my clan.
Fenris: These marking are different than yours Merrill, they almost killed me.
Merrill: (tracing Fenris' markings with her finger) Getting my blood writing was one of the most painful things I have ever gone through (notices Fenris flinching slightly) I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't know that they still caused you pain... I didn't mean to...
Fenris: (Places hand on Merrill's shoulder) Its alright Merrill, its just phantom pain, my markings are not as painful as they once were.
Merrill: How did you get them?
Fenris: You no doubt have heard the tales of the Magisters of Tevinter. Years ago, I was a slave for one such person. This Magister had an unholy facination for the inner workings of the Fade and sought to bind its power to this realm. Long story short, he decided to burn lyrium into my flesh just to see what would happen.
Merrill: (shocked) No wonder your so distrustful of mages.
Fenris: Merrill, I trust you. Your kind, and carring, you are nothing like my old master, not all who use magic wield it for their own gain, you taught me that.
Merrill: You're just trying to make me feel better aren't you?
Fenris: (Has guilty look on his face)
Merrill: You know, for a quiet guy who fells darkspawn like cordwood, your really sweet. (hugs Fenris)
Fenris: (Wraps arms around Merrill) So are you my dear.
[/quote]
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[quote]Deliciously-Demonic wrote...
Prompt: Curiousity
[quote]
Fenris still wondered how he ended up so lucky.
He didn't understand why someone like Faline would want to be with him. Sure, he was strong, a good warrior, but it wasn't as if he had much else going for him. And yet she told him she loved him, every day in fact, as if afraid he'd forget it. It scared him how close he'd let her get. He was scared that it was all a joke, that she didn't really care about him at all.
They were watching the sky and the clouds. It was a while before lunch time.
Watching the sky was a habit he'd picked up after joining her party. When he was a slave, he never got to see the sky. But as a free man...it was a reminder that this wasn't a dream, that he wasn't going to wake up one day back in that cage. She began joining him in his watchings after they'd known each other for a year. He was put off at first, but gradually got used to her company. If she wasn't there with him, he'd think something was wrong.
Faline was curled up next him, her silvery gray eyes shut gently, mouth slack. Her arm was slung over him, her leg bent over his own legs. He had forgone watching the twisting, swirling clouds in favor of watching her doze, smiling as her nose twitched in a very feline manner. She opened her round eyes and looked up at him tiredly.
"What's wrong?" she murmured.
"I was just thinking..." Fenris sighed. "Why are you here?"
"Uhm...because I always watch the clouds with you." Faline frowned.
"I mean...why are you with me?"
"Because I love you, you silly elf." She grinned. He didn't return it.
"Then...why do you love me?" She sighed at him.
"I...don't really know. I just do." he raised an eyebrow at her. "It's ineffable!"
"I'm what?"
"No no no, ineffable means it can't be explained!" she laughed.
"Oh."
"But why are you even asking this? Do you doubt my affections?"
"It's just...something Varric said." Fenris sighed again.
"What did the dwarf tell you that upset you so, my love?" Faline inquired.
"He just...asked me why you were with me when he was the manly one."
"Wait, what?" Faline arched an eyebrow. "How the Black City is he more manly?"
"Chest hair."
"WHAT?"
"He said he's more manly then me because he has chest hair." Faline couldn't help herself; she began laughing uncontrollably.
"Oh...oh, Fen," she coughed out between laughs. "You've gotta be kidding me! CHESTHAIR?" Fenris frowned, and began to feel rather silly. "Fen, I hate chest hair! And I love you for more then your lack thereof." Faline placed a kiss on his cheek.
"I'm so sorry for having a curiosity, my love." he sniffed sarcastically.
"Curiosity killed the cat, y'know."
"I thought you were the cat."
She bit her bottom lip, holding back her laughter. "Damn you logic, elfling!"
[/quote]
Those who can spot my How I Met Your Mother reference receive virtual cookies.[/quote]
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4.sweets
[quote]littlenikki wrote...
Sweets:
Fenris is enjoying a peaceful night at home when the Lady Hawke enters, unannounced and uninvited, a large basket hanging from her arm.
“Hawke? I wasn’t expecting company tonight.” The statement is just that, nothing accusatory or harsh hidden beneath as green eyes watch the slender woman’s approach. Without another word, she drops the woven basket carelessly before the elf, her own stark blue eyes unflinching in their gaze.
“What is-“
“Cookies!” Hawke removes the cloth blanket hiding the basket’s contents, a soothing warmth escaping from beneath and tickling at Fenris’s nostrils.
“I spoke to Isabela last night. She informed me that while on our last journey, you had mentioned that you had never tasted the joy that is sweets.” Hawke seats herself across from the lounging Fenris, still glaring at the steaming basket as if it would soon reach out and strike.
“Koo-keys? I have…never heard of such a thing. What are their contents? Are they supposed to be smoking like that?” Fenris reaches out to touch one of the small, doughy confections with the upmost distaste, his nose scrunching slightly as he recoils from their heat.
“Oh for the love of…here.” Hawke grabs one of the cookies without hesitation, taking a rather large bite and smiling encouragingly.
“Mmm…good!” She pushes the basket forcefully in Fenris’s direction, emerald eyes still glaring on in suspicion, “Your turn.”
Fenris does not respond, nor does he make any inclination to mimic that of Hawke’s example. Instead, the lithe elf stands from his seat, walking the few steps to close the distance between the pair and leaning down to press his lips upon hers.
It is only after a few moments that Fenris decides to move away, a smirk matching his lover’s playing across his lips.
“Yes…I think I might like these kookeys.”
[/quote]
5.scars
[quote]lnicol1900 wrote...
Prompt: Scars
[quote]It took a few moments for Fenris to realise that all the bandits were dead. He turned around, looking for their enemies, and only saw the alley scattered with corpses and his companions putting away their weapons. And, after checking the area one final time, he followed suit.
“Well... that was fun,” Hawke commented dryly. “Could have gone worse, I suppose.”
Fenris smirked at the woman’s words. Her way of diffusing tension with humour had taken some getting used to, but now he found himself grateful for her remarks after a battle. Listening to her just seemed to help his mind calm, better even than the comments he would mutter to himself as he fought.
“Now what?” he posed, turning to face the rogue who was slowly walking up to him.
“Well, their base is somewhere in Kirkwall. We need to find it and... politely ask the rest to leave,” she explained.
He resisted the urge to shake his head. Hawke’s version of ‘politely asking’ differed somewhat from the general norm. Or... perhaps it wasn’t any different, the people she spoke to just needed forceful reasoning.
As Varric and Bethany, Hawke’s apostate sister, joined them, the little group set off down the narrow back alleys. Varric and Bethany walked at the back, while Hawke walked behind him.
It had been disconcerting to him when she’d first asked him to lead, especially since, at the time, he was unfamiliar with Kirkwall and its many streets, back alleys and passageways. When he had protested, she only smiled and told him that she’d give him directions. Another action, despite being so small, that he was grateful for.
As they passed a junction, Fenris heard the tinkle of an empty glass bottle getting knocked. Turning his head to the right, he found himself staring at another bandit aiming a crossbow at him. A second later, the crossbow resounded with the twang of a bolt being released.
Pain erupted across his back as he was violently shoved forward, and he staggered to keep his balance. Outrage at the contact flared in the back of his mind, and he found the impulse to whip around and strike whoever had touched him was a difficult one to ignore.
He heard the answering call of a bolt from Varric’s Bianca, and he spun round in time to see the bandit collapse, a bolt embedded within his throat.
“Ow...” Hawke whimpered quietly behind him.
Dread washed over him like ice-cold water, banishing any and all anger at being touched so roughly, and he slowly turned to face the woman.
She was slumped against the wall, trembling as she refused to let shock and pain overrun her. She shakily lifted her right hand to her left shoulder and the bolt that was protruding from it. If her face was anything to go by, the pain was immeasurable.
Fenris just stood there, rooted in shock and horror at the injury that was meant to belong to him, which she had pushed him away from. He didn’t offer any assistance when Bethany and Varric tended to the wound, pushing the bolt further through her shoulder so that the head could be removed easily and clipped from the shaft. But, all the time that he was staring at Hawke in shock, she was staring back at him with an impressively stoic expression, occasionally wincing in pain.
He only became involved when they agreed that Hawke had to get proper care, rather than back alley work. He hooked her right arm across his shoulders and he held her waist to support her, while Bethany continued to tend to her left shoulder. Varric went on ahead of them, checking that nothing was going to show up and cause any more grievances.
Once Bethany and Hawke were safely home, Fenris had gone back to his small apartment. All he could think of was the fact that she had pushed him out of the way and taken the bolt for him. As a rogue, she used two daggers to fight, and she had injured one of her shoulders for him. She had compromised herself to protect him.
A knock at his door brought him out of his brooding, and he frowned. There were only two people who knew where he lived: Hawke and the landlord. The man who rented him the rooms never came to speak to him, and Hawke was probably bedridden.
He cautiously opened the door and was shocked to see Hawke smiling at him. He opened the door wider to get a proper look at her, and instantly noticed the sling holding her left arm. After following his gaze, she shrugged her right shoulder.
“Beth says it’ll take a few days to completely heal,” she explained nonchalantly. “May I come in?”
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asked as he stepped aside to let her enter.
“I should be,” she agreed, turning to face him. “But, I wanted to check up on you.”
“Me?” he frowned confusedly. “Why?”
“Well, I did push you pretty hard,” she noted shamefully. “I just wanted to apologise if I hurt you, and know that you were alright.”
Even though she hadn’t said anything humorous, Fenris had to chuckle. Her concern for others, even if she didn’t know them, had been one of the first qualities that he had seen from her. It was endearing.
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Though... I could have taken that bolt. I’ve suffered worse, after all.”
“Fenris,” she called quietly. “That’s why I pushed out the way.”
“What?” he asked incredulously, not understanding her logic.
“You have enough scars,” she stated.
To emphasise her point, she raised her right hand and gently laid it on his bicep. She splayed her hand in a practised movement so that her fingers rested around his lyrium brands, sometimes only just avoiding them. His skin tingled at the sensation.
“And besides”, she added, a wry smile on her lips. “Scars from protecting people are good scars.”[/quote][/quote]
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[quote]Tashash wrote...
Prompt: Scars
Hawke walked down to the tidal pools outside of Kirkwall, a wisp of a spell lighting her way across the wind and wave worn rocks.
Her back burned. It had been days since she had been able to seek relief for it; being Champion of Kirkwall had more downsides than perks she was finding.
But tonight, it was still early spring and still cold, and the hour was late – no sane person would be here at this time and she could relax. Bethany and Carver would make her excuses to their companions and keep them from following.
She moved to one pool of sal****er; deep enough to fully submerge herself in, and circled with ledges that she could sit on. It would do.
Buckles and buttons were undone as she slipped out of her mage robes, smallclothes following. Hawke shivered in the cold night air, and then steeled herself to step into the water – it would be much colder. She stepped into the pool, quickly sinking until only her shoulders remained dry.
Most of her skin froze at the contact, but for her back.
Cold, cooling, soothing, chasing away skin-memories of fire and pain.
It was bliss and relief from pain that felt like it had gone on for years.....HAD gone on for years, a parting gift from a Darkspawn emissary as her family had fled Lothering.
Only in these moments could she try and forget, away from the daily agony that she hid. It was important that no one knew, she remembered too well other reactions. She closed her eyes, listening to the far-off noise of the waves and remembered.
‘Maker! What is that?’
‘Just scars, they hardly even hurt anymore...’
‘Eugh....They...I’m leaving’
‘But....’
Then the rumours had started to circulate, a grey-eyed demon in the shape of a beautiful woman who led men to her bed and then turned into a monster.
The first time she heard it she had cried herself to sleep in Bethany’s arms, something she had not done since their father had died. Hawke had never known shame, not for being a mage, not for her interest in taking men and women to her bed, not for her related disinterest in the race of her bed-mates, not for anything.
But for the pocked, burnt and scarred flesh that led from the back of her left thigh to her right shoulder that magic could not heal Hawke knew shame. And she hated it. She hated her weakness in feeling ashamed.
The softest rustle of fabric over leather had her eyes slamming open.
‘No, no, no, nononono...’
His reflection mirrored in the still tidal pool perfectly, lit by her spell wisp. Weather-browned skin, sharp, prefect features, moss-green eyes, hair silver-white as the Lyrium that banded his skin.
Fenris.
‘Andraste’s ******, WHY?’
Fenris, former slave but now a cherished member of their little band, who was as beautifully lethal in battle as the wolf-god he was named for, possessed of a courage and conviction that left her in awe. Calm and patient as stone.
Gorgeous Fenris, whom she had wanted in so many ways since their first meeting, and whose own scars could be considered more a work of art than a flaw, unlike her own...disfigurement.
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Fenris had only wanted a walk; he had had no intention of running into anyone. He had simply been restless.
He had gone to the tidal pools because he had been sure he would be alone. It was cold, late and dark – who in their right mind would come here?
He had seen the far-off wisp of magic and had crept closer to investigate. Trouble could be anywhere.
He had not meant to inadvertently spy on the Champion, his companion. Then when he had realised it was Hawke he had thought the human mage was in trouble, and moved to help. Why else would she be sitting, bare to her skin, in a tidal pool in the dead of night?
Then, as he had come closer he had seen the skin of her back clearer.
Scars. The makings left by fire that had burnt hot and fierce, and old, jagged wounds. They covered all the skin across her shoulders that he could see, and continued down her back into the water.
And he had remembered, when they had first met, the look in those fog-grey eyes. The look he had mistaken for pity, and had despised.
But Hawke had never acted as if she pitied him, had treated him no differently than Isabella or Varric or the rest of their party. And had respected his aversion to being touched.....
Hawke had not pitied him, she had understood him. That had been what was in her eyes.
The understanding of what it was to be scarred.
Fenris had moved closer to her then, unthinkingly and the woman’s eyes had flown open, startled, and stared at the water; looking at his face reflected in the water as he looked at hers.
And what he saw in her eyes now was fear. And shame. And he could not bear it. Having discovered a secret of Hawke’s he felt compelled to share one of his own.
He knelt slowly behind her, and reached out to trail gentle fingertips across the scarring on her shoulder, leant forward to let his lips almost touch the shell of her ear.
‘I don’t care Hawke.’[/quote]
[quote]Alistairschica wrote...
Prompt: Scars (Just not in the literal sense)
Angsty with a hint of sweet cuz that's how I roll. xD
I know not where my feet carry me, only that I can not remain still any longer. Night has fallen, the streets silent except for the distant laughter wafting from the tavern. I walk beneath a shimmering curtain of stars, my body moving freely without the weight of my armor.
How much time had passed since our escape from Lothering? How much sadness had my mind sifted through since fleeing from the only home I had ever known? So many things have changed. So many decisions that needed to be made, their importance bearing down on my shoulders where there had been none before. I had accepted the responsibility of my family without having time to think, wanting only for them to survive, and not knowing that they would still look to me long after the threat had passed. It was not regret; simply a woman bearing a burden who had become weary. Day in and day out, I forced myself to be strong for their sake, never allowing my shoulders to slump, never letting them see my smile falter.
Nights like this, when my companions were asleep and the world was winding down, I could give myself a few moments to be nothing more than a normal woman who felt sadness and fear just as any other.
Tired legs move me to a bench near the city gates, the shops lining the plaza dark and shuttered till the sunrise brought life to them once more. There is nothing but the glow of torchlight along the pathways, the shadows from their flame dancing as a warm breeze stirs the air.
Was it selfish of me to wish that things had turned out simpler? To wish that the fighting was done and the wounds long forgotten? My body aches along with my heart, the burn of tears forcing my eyes to close. Hiding them has become nothing more than instinct, the warm path they leave upon my cheeks an unfamiliar feeling.
The wood of the bench creaks beneath the weight of another but there is no need to open my eyes to know who has joined me. Odd that I would learn to feel his presence from fighting at his side, knowing where he was while in my company without having to turn and look.
Fenris says nothing nor do I expect him to. How I envied him for being so calm. I had yet to find the words needed in order to thank him for all he has done for me; things he did without knowing and others without even trying. His presence gave me comfort, the determination in his eyes giving fire to my own. What a pitiful creature I am for wallowing in my own self pity when he has suffered more than I ever will.
Strange how he always seemed to find me when the sadness felt as if it might break me.
[/quote]
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6.400
Misc
[quote]solstickan wrote...
----
Sundermount
They were traveling back home through the
mountains north of Kirkwall, the empty fields which hid unearthly
terrors in its shrouds of mist. Their camp had been set near the base
of Sundermount, a majestic mountain which had taken them days to
navigate around.
Fenris was sitting around a dying fire,
drenched by the moist air. His tired eyes were searching the vast
wilderness for anything out of place, anything not yet dead. A cold wind
ruffled his hair and sent shivers down his spine.
Suddenly, he heard a crack. He jumped, turned
around, but saw nothing; the darkness beyond the dimly lit camp was
impenetrable.
From nowhere came hands, seizing his shoulders
in a firm grip, pulling him to the ground. He began to cry out, to
alert the others, but a spell had been cast on him which made him unable to move at all. The spell was unnecessary, however, for the
eyes that met him quelled him immediately.
“So we meet again”, said the magister,
smirking complacently. “How unfortunate that it must be like this.”
He let him go and waved forward his two cronies, giant brutes with no
free will of their own. They bound him roughly by the feet and hands,
sending sharp pains through his body every time they got too close to
his scars.
Panic surged through him as he realized he was
trapped, unable to move or scream for help. A faint thought of lady
Hawke wanted him to fight his way out of this bodily cage, but it was
not enough, and soon memories of old drowned all other thought. Once
again, his reality was pain and fear and heavy shackles.
He was thrown hard onto a carriage, hitting his
head and getting his vision blurred.
Somewhere in the distant a lightning bolt lit
up the sky. A roar split the air.
The lady screamed, her tired voice cracked,
“You are never taking him again!” All turned orange as the
magister's cronies were engulfed by Hawke's flames. “And you don't
mess with me!” The anger in her voice was transformed into a dark
swarm eating at the magister. But before the insects of magic so much
as touched his flesh he repelled them. They vanished into thin air
before they could return to Hawke.
Fenris felt himself being able to move again.
Gathering all his strength he jumped to his feet, grabbing a sword in
the wagon in the motion, and charged at the magister, who was now in
the middle of conjuring a powerful spell to finish off the now
unconscious Hawke. His heart lurched as he saw her lifeless body on
the ground, but the worry was soon turned into mad fury directed at
his enslaver.
In one sweep the magister's right arm was chopped off, and
with a strike with the pummel he was forced to the ground. Fenris
stepped into his vision, eyes dark as never before. The man started
to say something, but Fenris stepped on his face, crunching the nose
beneath his bare feet, before he could inhale another breath.
“You say nothing to me. Your leash on me has been cut, master”, spat Fenris poisonously.
Spluttering frantically to get the blood away from his airways the man saw his
end. Fenris severed his head with a single, forceful blow to the
throat.
For a split second Fenris could do nothing but stare at the dead man's empty
eyes, feeling as emotionless inside.
“Fenris”, said Hawke from behind, her voice soft. She did not lay a comforting
hand on his shoulder, for she had learnt that he did not appreciate
the touch. Fenris tore his gaze from his former master and let it
turn to Hawke's dark amber eyes. She looked to be unscathed, though
her eyes were heavy from sleep deprivation.
“It is done”, said he simply. It was odd, to feel like he was: at peace,
yet not satisfied. Somehow it was as if a part of him had been slain
with the magister. He could not bring himself to smile.
“It was so close. I don't know what I-” She lowered her eyes. “I could not
have bared it”, whispered she then, looking straight into his eyes.
“Are you injured?”
“No, I was merely... No. And you?”
“No.” Silence filled the air, the kind which no words need to fill.
Finally, Hawke let a sad smile creep upon her lips and she gently
placed her hand on his cheek. A hot vibration spread through his body
at the touch.
“I care for you, Fenris.” And then she leaned in and kissed him. And he let her.
[/quote]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[quote]Deliciously-Demonic wrote...
Prompt: 400
She was everthing he was suppose to despise and dislike. While he was broody, anti-social even, she was cheerful, kind and helped everyone. And she was a bloody mage. That alone made him recoil with horror when he first found himself drawn to her. The short, pale, ebony-haired Hawke intrigued him, he had admitted, rather bitterly. They were total opposites, from personality to appearance to abilities. But he couldn't stop from falling for her. How this odd relationship had even started, he didn't remember. It was vague...he distantly recalled a memory as slamming her against a wall and kissing her. But regardless, there he was, propped up against a tree with her curled up like a cat next to him, her head in his lap. He grinned down and her round, innocent face, so different from his own. Hawke opened one eye, large, round and silver, and pinned him with it. "What?" she asked. He grinned wider still. "Just thinking, love." she opened her other eye and raised a single brow. "About what?" she inquired. "Us. How I despised you when we first met." he answered. "Oh? Pray tell, Fenris, when did your opinion of me change?" he blinked, grin fading, and thought momentarily. "Exactly four hundered days ago, when I first got off my arse and kissed you." he answered truthfully. She made a noise of surprise. "You've counted the days that we've been together?"
"My dear, I count the seconds."
"Kissass."
"It's true. What would you do without me and my simple flattery?"
"Run to Varric."
"Oh please, you can't be serious."
"Damn. You've called my bluff, good Ser."
"Indeed?" she grinned and pulled his head down, pressing her lips to his briefly.
"Indeed."[/quote]
Misc
[quote]solstickan wrote...
----
Sundermount
They were traveling back home through the
mountains north of Kirkwall, the empty fields which hid unearthly
terrors in its shrouds of mist. Their camp had been set near the base
of Sundermount, a majestic mountain which had taken them days to
navigate around.
Fenris was sitting around a dying fire,
drenched by the moist air. His tired eyes were searching the vast
wilderness for anything out of place, anything not yet dead. A cold wind
ruffled his hair and sent shivers down his spine.
Suddenly, he heard a crack. He jumped, turned
around, but saw nothing; the darkness beyond the dimly lit camp was
impenetrable.
From nowhere came hands, seizing his shoulders
in a firm grip, pulling him to the ground. He began to cry out, to
alert the others, but a spell had been cast on him which made him unable to move at all. The spell was unnecessary, however, for the
eyes that met him quelled him immediately.
“So we meet again”, said the magister,
smirking complacently. “How unfortunate that it must be like this.”
He let him go and waved forward his two cronies, giant brutes with no
free will of their own. They bound him roughly by the feet and hands,
sending sharp pains through his body every time they got too close to
his scars.
Panic surged through him as he realized he was
trapped, unable to move or scream for help. A faint thought of lady
Hawke wanted him to fight his way out of this bodily cage, but it was
not enough, and soon memories of old drowned all other thought. Once
again, his reality was pain and fear and heavy shackles.
He was thrown hard onto a carriage, hitting his
head and getting his vision blurred.
Somewhere in the distant a lightning bolt lit
up the sky. A roar split the air.
The lady screamed, her tired voice cracked,
“You are never taking him again!” All turned orange as the
magister's cronies were engulfed by Hawke's flames. “And you don't
mess with me!” The anger in her voice was transformed into a dark
swarm eating at the magister. But before the insects of magic so much
as touched his flesh he repelled them. They vanished into thin air
before they could return to Hawke.
Fenris felt himself being able to move again.
Gathering all his strength he jumped to his feet, grabbing a sword in
the wagon in the motion, and charged at the magister, who was now in
the middle of conjuring a powerful spell to finish off the now
unconscious Hawke. His heart lurched as he saw her lifeless body on
the ground, but the worry was soon turned into mad fury directed at
his enslaver.
In one sweep the magister's right arm was chopped off, and
with a strike with the pummel he was forced to the ground. Fenris
stepped into his vision, eyes dark as never before. The man started
to say something, but Fenris stepped on his face, crunching the nose
beneath his bare feet, before he could inhale another breath.
“You say nothing to me. Your leash on me has been cut, master”, spat Fenris poisonously.
Spluttering frantically to get the blood away from his airways the man saw his
end. Fenris severed his head with a single, forceful blow to the
throat.
For a split second Fenris could do nothing but stare at the dead man's empty
eyes, feeling as emotionless inside.
“Fenris”, said Hawke from behind, her voice soft. She did not lay a comforting
hand on his shoulder, for she had learnt that he did not appreciate
the touch. Fenris tore his gaze from his former master and let it
turn to Hawke's dark amber eyes. She looked to be unscathed, though
her eyes were heavy from sleep deprivation.
“It is done”, said he simply. It was odd, to feel like he was: at peace,
yet not satisfied. Somehow it was as if a part of him had been slain
with the magister. He could not bring himself to smile.
“It was so close. I don't know what I-” She lowered her eyes. “I could not
have bared it”, whispered she then, looking straight into his eyes.
“Are you injured?”
“No, I was merely... No. And you?”
“No.” Silence filled the air, the kind which no words need to fill.
Finally, Hawke let a sad smile creep upon her lips and she gently
placed her hand on his cheek. A hot vibration spread through his body
at the touch.
“I care for you, Fenris.” And then she leaned in and kissed him. And he let her.
[/quote]
Wonderful turnout! Thanks for those who's participating!
:wub:The complete list can be found here and Our LJ
[quote]
Prompt
1.Forgotten Song.
2.Snow.
3.Fear.
4.Fade.
5.Twilight (no. Not that one).
Time frame: 1 week.
Don't forget you can combine two of them, or three.[/quote]
Modifié par tankgirly, 27 janvier 2011 - 05:35 .
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