‘◘. UNBOUND

#‘◘. visage: words resonate in the hollow spaces #ofhawkiings #[ first of all HOW DARE U ]#[ second of all MAKER BLESS U FOR DOING HIS GOOD WORK ON THIS EARTH ]

I perpetually want the K.

( get kisses from hawke : NOT accepting )

15: Kiss in the Rain

It all came back in a rush. The emotions, the realizations, the sense of who he was and what he had been alongside the warm wash of his magic through his veins mixed with adrenaline. Everything hit him like some kind of avalanche and he had no time to sort through it all, the feeling of the cold rain on his face mixing with hot tears as they ran down his cheeks. Mikael’s breath came in harsh pants and his eyes were wild as they locked on the elf near him and nearly choked on the sob he held back.

There was so much, so, so much and he didn’t know what to do with it all, except one thing.

Without even really thinking any of it through, with tears still spilling from his eyes to mix with the rain and breathing still heavy, he took hold of Fenris and kissed him with everything he had. Hands cupping the other man’s face, Mikael pressed their lips together with an urgency that hurt, near sobs locked in his throat and chest. The rain had soaked them both through and his magic was crackling slightly in the air around them, circling them almost. Yet, Mikael couldn’t bring himself to care.

Everything had been lifeless, colorless, it had all be so empty. Then there had been light and color and warmth. So, he clung on, clung on to the colors and the one man that mattered most. He clung like a man about to drown, like Fenris was the only thing keeping him on his feet. There was a good chance that he probably was because Mikael wasn’t sure he wouldn’t collapse to the ground at the elf’s feet with the weight of it all.

It was unreal, lips kissing him like a man of faith speaking his most honest prayer.

Then he pulled back, not by much, just enough to breathe freely only to have a sob claw it’s way from his throat and blue eyes looking at Fenris. They shined with emotions and tears and everything he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words. Which was when the entire reality of the situation hit him. How it had to have been possible for him to feel again, for the world to hold color and for him to be able to feel the love in his heart again.

His voice was pained, wrecked as it wavered as it never had before when he spoke.

“Maker, Fenris, what did you do?”

#‘◘. visage: words resonate in the hollow spaces #‘◘. scrolls: desperation in tooth and claw #apostateofsass #nsfw #[ how dare ]#[ i'm cry?? ]#[ sam why ]

I want the K!

I want the K: accepting

14: Kiss Along the Hips

Hesitation quelled Fenris’ prior fervor, arms withdrawing to cover the now exposed skin, revealing the full extent of the lyrium brand forced upon him. Lean muscle and slender shoulders caved in. Whether it be pain lingering from the markings or shame of his current vulnerability, Marian’s warm breaths against his neck slowed and she stepped away without question. What he wanted and how far he wished to go would be his choice. Patience. Understanding. Marian would be whatever he needed, when he required it.

A hand grabbed her arm, the grip gentle but firm, and she stopped to search his expression for answers. Hazel eyes rested on the floor and then squeezed tight, an unknown inner struggle waging inside of him. Marian breathed his name, each syllable laced with concern. Her free hand cupped his cheek, thumb brushing Fenris’ ear and the furrow between his brows dispersed, expression softening. When the other’s eyes reopened, they shown nothing short of gratitude, of determination, and of longing.

He pulled her closer, squeezed his flesh against hers. The strength in his hand unwavering with resolve pressed against the small of her back, guiding her to bed. It wasn’t enough, she wanted to hear him say it, assure her this was what he wanted. Never had he wanted anything more, he replied. A rare coy smile flashed in the firelight, and Marian mirrored it.

Hands resting on his hips, she eased him to sit and knelt before him. No longer would he be forced to submit. Marian wanted to show that he was and always had been her equal. That this was not to serve her pleasure, but his. Fenris inhaled sharply, fingers tangling in her hair when she pressed her lips against his hip. Pulling the skin gently between her teeth, she followed the trail of lyrium that marked everything he had endured and his strength to overcome it.

“Yes, we shall. I can’t have you swooning over my gorgeous looks in a dress just yet. I’ll simply sweep you off your feet later.”

#‘◘. scrolls: the howling of wolves #‘◘. verse: tevinter fugitive #ofhawkiings #[ i still don't know what they're doing lmao ]#[ orlesian party??? ]

“ -- It is more likely that I’ll trip in these shoes and break my neck before we make it out of the chateau. ”

“I’m sure you’re not that horrible — but if you ever want me to sing for you again.. I’d be more than willing.”

And it’s the truth. He has never been one to sing in front of large groups of people or anything like that. However, here with Fenris where it’s just the two of them? Hawke would be more than willing to sing if the elf asked him to, if he wanted to hear it. That much Mikael knows because there are a lot of things he’d do for Fenris if he was only asked, things still that he would do even if it’s not requested of him.

His posture shifts to seat himself next to the other man, smile easy as he does so. It’s not often that they are given moments such as these. Those precious moments when nothing is so pressing that they have to deal with it then, or someone is trying to get Mikael’s attention and beg him for his help. He plans on enjoying it while it lasts.

While it’s true that he could choose not to help, to leave those people to deal with their own problems — they all know that he won’t. He’ll help however he can until he is unable to help at all.

“Maybe I can even sing you a lullaby and rock you to sleep?”

#‘◘. scrolls: the howling of wolves #‘◘. verse: tevinter fugitive #ofhawkiings

“ -- Now you’re mocking me. ” The accusation is delivered lightly, as he is in high spirits. As he usually is when he and Hawke are alone. He does not stop to wonder when they happened. It came slowly and now that it is so, it seems strange that things were ever any different between them. He leans his weight into Hawke, taking comfort in the warmth emanating off of the other man. Hawke’s presence is assuring, solid. A sense of security -- of home -- that Fenris has never before known blankets him. It is rare that they are able to fully relax, even together, even alone. Being Champion of Kirkwall comes with its fair share of demands, and Fenris could never sit idly by while Hawke did the dirty work and various other tasks given to him by the city. For now, things are quiet. Except, of course, for their voices. He hums lightly, the tune to an old Tevinter lullaby he used to know, though he is not quite bold enough to actually sing. Even humming brings heat to his face, thankfully hidden as he ducks his head against Hawke’s shoulder. “ ... but I would like to hear it again sometime. ”

Call to the Circle // lyrium-bound

“I doubt I will be allowed to leave, even for a noble cause such as brutally murdering your former master.”

Should she wait? What if the time came when Danarius attempted to reclaim her companion and Fenris needed aid? Hawke was in no position to request aid from Aveline nor Varric–Maker, Hawke didn’t even have the stones to tell Aveline of her decision. Once the guard captain received word of Hawke’s induction into the Circle, Hawke may actually be safer behind a line of templars…

Doubt rooted her once again to the hard stone. Faltering, torn by the notion of something happening to Fenris and being unable to help twisted her stomach into knots. But could she truly justify weighing the needs and wants of her companions and herself against the needs of the more numerous mages suffering? Hawke squinted in the sunlight, blinded by what ifs and possible outcomes, forcing herself to focus on the man before her. It felt natural to simply reach out to him. Hand brushed against the bare skin of his tattooed arm.

“Be careful, Fenris. If it means running or endangering yourself–run.”

The culmination of their relationship demanded that she extend her support to him, whatever she could, regardless of her capabilities.

“You know where to find me.”

#‘◘. scrolls: the howling of wolves #‘◘. verse: tevinter fugitive #‘◘. thread: call to the circle #apostateofsass

He took her words to be cold dismissal, but reconsidered when she reached out for him. Hazel eyes grazed over her hand, following a path that began at her wrist and ended at her eyes, which he searched for a moment. What he found there amounted to doubt and concern, though he couldn’t quite place why. Guilt took root in his chest, reminding him that he had done little to protect her -- at least by her own judgement. To him, it seemed that the Circle was safest for her. Not just for her own sake but yes, for that too, despite what the others might believe. Still, when faced with her altruism he couldn’t help but feel as though he had not quite earned it. “ -- I suppose I shall have to make do without your help. I wish it did not have to be so. Truly. ” The words were genuine. If he saw an alternative, he would already have offered it. Her eyes shone with determination as she told him that, should he need to, he should run. That notion, more than any other, struck him hard. Running was something he knew well. For the first time in a long time, he had found a place from which he did not wish to run. The thought that he might have to, and not in Hawke’s company, did not sit well. “ I do not intend to run, Hawke. This is not a farewell. I will return to visit you. ”

Return Him as He Was

Every fiber seized, paralyzed as though gripped by a hand plunged into her chest, crushing her heart. Compared to every wound that had just been inflicted upon her–Fenris’ words struck hardest, and Hawke recoiled so suddenly she fell backwards onto the blood slickened floor. Is this how Fenris felt when they saved Orana? The volatile mixture of anguish, regret, and disgust combined to form bile that Hawke barely suppressed from rising.

“No. I’m…”

A friend? A lover? The ghost of familiarity lingered in his features behind the terrified and confused eyes haunting her now. Clinging to their past intimacy would be unbearable in her weakened condition.

“–Hawke.”

What had or could’ve been must be forgotten for the time being. This wasn’t the time to press Fenris for answers he likely did not have and Hawke couldn’t defend them both if the Venatori had other agents lingering nearby. Jaw clenched, Hawke steeled herself to be his strength and protector now. Just focus on the next task. Move. Find shelter. Rest and regroup. Fall apart later.

“We need… I need rest. Redcliffe village isn’t far.”

Aching and numb, the atrium floor shifted beneath her unsteady feet as she rose. Blinking away her remaining tears, Hawke’s hand extended toward Fenris, hesitant to even touch him. Her lips tasted of dried blood and dirt, biting them as she painstakingly chose her next words. As much as she wanted to drag him back to Skyhold, to undo whatever had been done to him, the choice had to be his. No matter how much it pained her.

“…I want to help you. But the decision to accompany me is yours.”

#‘◘. scrolls: the howling of wolves #‘◘. verse: tapping the vein #‘◘. thread: return him as he was #apostateofsass

He did not understand the horror with which she responded. So, she had stormed their encampment here and murdered his master, all for nothing? The cold pit of fear in his stomach settled into a heavy weight. If she didn’t want him, then what was he to do? He had only the slightest clue of where to begin, a direction in which he might head, but after that there was all of Thedas before him. He could wander, purposeless. Make his way back to Minrathous in the hopes that someone would claim him for his markings. Try to beg for shelter, food, anything in the nearby village. None of these options seemed viable, and all of them were intimidating. Overwhelmingly so. Why had she done this, if not for him? All of these things flashed through his mind before she finished uttering her name. Hawke. She said it like it should mean something, but it didn’t. “ -- Hawke. ” It felt foreign on his tongue. A new word in his lexicon. Nothing more significant than that, except that he could now associate it with her. This destructive force that ended Danarius’s life. Perhaps that was why she said it so solemnly, like invoking an ancient ward. His heart beat faster at the mention of Redcliffe. When it became clear that she intended to take him with her, only not as a slave, he could have wept with gratitude. “ I... have nowhere else to go. Thank you for taking me with you. I have many skills, I can-- I will repay any debt between us. ” Shakily, he clambered to his feet, ignoring the ache in his knees. He knew better than to complain now, though they stung bitterly from rough contact with the stone floor. Wordlessly, he hovered near her, waiting for her to take the lead so he could follow.

"Good hair runs in the family. If I had facial hair it would be glorious, too."

“Indeed it would be — just not as gloriousas mine. There’s a secret to growing greatfacial hair. If I told you, I’d have to steal allyour liquor.”

“If I didn’t know you better I’d say your secret lies in blood magic, but since I do– I’m fairly certain it’s rubbing elf on it.”

#‘◘. ooc: a voice from the darkness #[ dash commentary ]#apostateofsass #ofhawkiings

ofhawkiingsarchive-blog

His hand moves quickly from Fenris’ neck so that his hand can snake around his back instead to help keep them firmly pressed together. Mikael could feel his heart thumping against his chest as surely as he could the elf’s. It tugged at something in him when he broke the kiss, still not stepping back. Instead, he simply pressed their forehead together with a content hum vibrating in his throat.

Of all the things that he had happen to him in Kirkwall, falling for the other man was the most terrifying and unexpected. It had also been the best thing. In the beginning, he had been simply trying to coax Fenris out of his prickly shell just enough to prove a point. He hadn’t needed to be alone. He had friends that would be their for him. Then it had gone so much further than he’d intended, friendly smiles gaining more meaning than they were meant to carry and facade slipping in moments it was meant to hold steady. Before long he had already fallen in far too deep for there to be any hope if climbing back out. It had almost been like trying to keep from slipping down a steep slope before realizing you need to just slide down and hope you don’t break anything when you hit the bottom.

Mikael wasn’t even sure he’d stopped sliding down, yet.

There’s a light chuckle that leaves him at the thought, arm tightening around the other slightly. It’s near idiotic how far in he is, but he’d never have it any other way. Fenris has caught him thoroughly than he could ever know. A bird caught by a wolf that can be as loyal and kind as it can be fierce and dangerous.

"Don’t worry, I’ll keep your weakness a secret. Nobody will ever know how easy you are to persuade.”

#‘◘. scrolls: the howling of wolves - Ongoing #‘◘. verse: those who remain #‘◘. thread: i don't like dancing #ofhawkiings

The hum that emanates from Hawke seems to vibrate all the way through him, from the place where their foreheads touch all through to the soles of his feet. It resonates, also, in all the hollow spaces in his body. He is full of sound and wonder -- and sentiment, it seems. Yet he cannot help himself. This is what Hawke leaves in his wake, though the mage does not even seem to realize sometimes the impact he has. Fenris is not his only victim; merely the one fortunate enough to have caught his eye. Every day is a new, fresh wave of gratitude. Of amazement. It is difficult not to feel indebted to Hawke; difficult sometimes to believe that he might offer just as much to the mage as he receives. Hawke is never serious for long. He chuckles, jests, his body a slackened line. Fenris feels similarly relaxed, an astonishing feat for him. Ordinarily he is sharp edges, hard planes, tension rolling over muscles in his shoulder and back. Hawke makes him feel as though he could fly. His fingers flex against Hawke’s shoulders. Clinging or anchoring, he cannot say. “ -- How kind of you. ” A droll intonation, it does nothing to encompass what he’s feeling. He knows it’s lacking; can think of nothing else to say. “ Hawke... ” He wants to get out of here, but doesn’t want to interrupt. People expect the Champion of Kirkwall to be at this tourney, at this dance. Who is he to suggest they flee the crowds? Find an adventure on the battlements? Continue kissing in the first private space they can find?

#nsfw #[ no context necessary because u r sinners ]

Broken Pieces

Grief was a wondrous anesthetic. Dulling the pain throbbing from her knuckles, even as it spread up her arms from the point of impact. Every heartbeat coming slower, the pounding in her ears softening until she heard Fenris. All of her self-loathing caught in her throat, Hawke’s pride forcing her to swallow it hard. Regardless of what they had been through together these past few months, she couldn’t let any of her companions see her. Not like this.

Not the crumbling mess she had become.

With a shaky laugh, Hawke shrugged off her bloodied hands as if she hadn’t just possibly shattered every knuckle she had. A quick glance around to assure no one else was watching and Hawke willed her mana mend her hands as best she could. Anders could do a proper job of it later.

“–The wall insulted me.”

Hawke suppressed a wince as she jerked her thumb to the stone.

“Naturally I had to defend my honor.”

Fenris bore enough troubles of his own and Hawke refused to share hers, no matter how fond she’d grown of killing bandits with him. With the expedition… over, any debt to her–while unnecessary–repaid, Hawke expected the elf to be gone, back retreating into the horizon down the Wounded Coast. Not eyeing her with concern. Now…

Now she didn’t know how she should feel towards him.

“But who am I to refuse the invitation of a handsome elf? Am I lucky enough to be offered a glass of Aggregio Pavali as well? That would certainly warm me up.”

And assist to dull everything else.

#‘◘. scrolls: the howling of wolves #‘◘. verse: tevinter fugitive #‘◘. thread: broken pieces #apostateofsass

He could see her walls rising, constructing lightning fast around her. It was easy enough to recognize the very same defenses he himself used. Being shut out did not offend him; he wasn’t certain he had the right to pry to begin with. He could begrudge no one the need to wall off the most painful parts of themselves. If Hawke was seeking someone who could climb or break through them, then he had little to offer. If she wanted them left untouched; merely wanted the comfort of someone’s presence or a warm drink? That, he could offer. He could only hope it would suffice. He had nothing against which to measure her grief. If he’d ever had a family, he could not remember them. The aching, lonely spaces inside him that seemed to stretch when he thought of what he’d never had could not compare to having that family, and then losing it. And there were many ways for Hawke to blame herself, though of course Fenris did not. He doubted she could have prevented Carver from coming if she’d tried, but saying so did not seem like it would help. She wanted him to ignore the bruises and the blood, and so he made no mention of them, merely turning back toward the mansion. He heard her footsteps falling in behind him. “ -- I shall see what I can do. You can drink as much of the stuff as you like. I imagine Danarius would be furious. At least, it’s amusing to think so. ” He lead her through the mansion and up the sprawling marble staircase that lead to the room he’d been squatting in all this time. Without meeting her eyes and without mentioning it, he retrieved the elfroot from his chest of belongings. He placed a bundle of it, along with some bandages, beside one of the chairs by the fire. “ I will return shortly. Make yourself... comfortable. ” It was strange to say; strange to play host when he was so used to playing servant. Fetching the wine and the food while Danarius said all the things that needed to be said. Make yourself at home. Be comfortable. You are my guest. All of it tasted bitter in his mouth, and was only tempered by the fact that it was technically Danarius’s hospitality on which he was encroaching. Musing, he made his way to the cellar, hoping to give Hawke enough time to see to her wounds, should she wish. He had no intention of injuring her pride on top of everything else, and it was also something of a relief. He still had no clue at all what he was meant to say.

//ofhawkiings

Hearing his offer accepting certainly was nice. It appeared that would be able to get closer this way. That was something that he looked forward to, he was obviously more than willing to help the elf with anything that he needed assistance with, but he was also relieved in a way to have the elf maybe – just maybe – letting him in a little. Hawke wanted to make sure that Fenris knew that he had a friend in him. He had his back in whatever was to come —- the act of teaching to read included

“Oh, come on. I’m sure you’ll do great.” He chuckled and grinned before downing the last of his alcohol, glad to not have an kind of dead specimen at the bottom. It was then set on down and he licked his lips, mind already thinking of all the things he had in way of resources to be able to teach Fenris with. “I only have one book to really work with right now — “ The one he had spent his time in Darktown with Velya reading while she slept, something he didn’t usually volunteer to share with anyone.

He never tried to hide its contents, but he never readily shared them either. Still, he was volunteering to do so now with Fenris.

“We can start with that, I’ll get some stuff to help with writing, too —- hey, maybe if we’re lucky the mansion will have some stuff we can use.” The grin never faultered as he leaned back slightly, tilting his head a bit as his blue eyes crinkled. “We’ll have you able to sign autographs and read Isabela’s stories in no time.”

And that was in no way him rushing his friend, Mikael was not an impatient man. He was more than willing to take as long as Fenris needed to learn — everyone learned everything at their own pace, after all — he was merely teasing and joking as he often did. In all actuality, the mage found that he was indeed looking forward to it.

#‘◘. scrolls: the howling of wolves #‘◘. verse: tevinter fugitive #‘◘. otp: the greatest peace i've ever known #‘◘. thread: behind your walls #ofhawkiings

‘‘ -- So long as it isn’t the Chant of Light, I have no real preference. I would imagine things will go much more quickly if we select something... palatable. ’’ He does not with to say easy or simple. It is enough that he has already admitted his lack of ability -- for the act of reading itself as well as trying to learn. He can at least trust Hawke to select something manageable. Or perhaps he will not, and Fenris will be made to feel the fool; but the mage seems far too invested in the task already for Fenris to think that it is all an elaborate trick. The idea of signing autographs or reading Isabela’s filth elicits an amused snort from the elf. Not because he thinks it out of the realm of possibility that he will develop the skill, but because he cannot imagine squandering it on such things. Even with the ability to read under his belt, he thinks he will probably stay safely away from Isabela’s scandalous attempts at fiction. For that matter, he feels inclined to avoid Varric’s stories as well. He’s not certain that anything he might find on the subject of himself will be all that flattering. But it might give him some insight into Hawke-- Not that he would need to read up on the mage. He can always just ask, he asserts to himself. ‘‘ I would not be too hopeful to compare notes on Isabela’s stories, but nonetheless I am... eager to learn. So it is settled. Tomorrow, then? ’’

“I’m thankful for your consideration.”

Mikael lets the smile fully develop, his lips curving further upward though it is still rather removed from his trouble-making grin. It’s still something more personal. It’s an expression born of this moment, born of the knowledge that he doesn’t need to keep his defenses up at their highest while alone with Fenris. Still, they do not stay down complete- ly. It’s too much of an ingrained habit to let them remain completely un-con- structed for too long.

With a breath, Mikael takes a moment to think back to the song. He licks his lips and begins the melody again, allowing his voice to fill the air around them.

♫ Of all the money that e'er I had I spent it in good company And all the harm I’ve ever done Alas, it was to none but me. ♫

♫ And all I’ve done for want of wit To memory now I can’t recall So fill to me the parting glass Good night and joy be to you all ♫