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@lyrium-stained-blog
Returned from the Hunt (open)
Fenris shouldn’t have been surprised that someone was quick to join him. He should have been even less surprised to see that person was Hawke. Even then, a faint smile crept onto his face. He leaned one arm on the table, raising an eyebrow at Hawke, then the dog. In the tavern? Really? He shouldn’t expect any less.
“Does that line work on women?” he asked dryly. “I thought Varric would have taught you better pick ups than that.”
Returned from the Hunt (open)
Fenris had just gotten back from another excursion into Orlais to deal with a problem group of the Venatori nuisance. He’d been walking all day, and could probably use a bath to get the dried blood out from under his fingernails. So, where did he go? The tavern, naturally.
He was in high spirits, though it was hard to tell by his expression. He sat down at one of the tables and was quickly greeted by a large wooden mug being set down in front of him. The Herald’s Rest had learned his favorites quickly. A smile pulled at his lips and he took the mug. So, it wasn’t his favorite wine. It was still on the house, according to the wave from the bartender.
His shoulders relaxed as he became comfortable with the surroundings. A few of the Chargers were loudly boasting stories of a recent mission. The bard was singing through it all with her lovely voice, as always. Laughter erupted somewhere upstairs. It almost felt like home.
Sketch dump #6? Lots of shipping things for this one. Also I filled out some prompts.
Signature Defense (Cullen & Fenris)
“I do have to wonder how many of them see just the elf in Varric’s book,” he mused out loud. As if on cue, a small group of soldiers passed them. They did a very poor job at trying to hide their stares. Fenris sighed and went right back to ignoring them in favor of lending his attention to the conversation at hand.
“A boy?” he asked. Something about that seemed familiar. And not in any good way. Nightmares, demons, something caught in the veil... Fenris shook his head and lied, “No, it wasn’t about that. But I do have reason to believe there might be a demon somewhere in Skyhold.”
Memory loss? Unease? That strange tingle on his skin that flared up every time he tried to recall what he lost. All of it spoke to demons, and Fenris didn’t like it one bit.
Event: Lost and Found [Fenris & Hawke]
“You don’t have to tell me about being hunted, Hawke.” Fenris tried to be sarcastic, but it didn’t work so well when he actually had a point. At Hawke’s little display of magic, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “How could I forget?” As much as he respected Hawke, he didn’t care for such blatant reminders of their one biggest point of disagreement.
Hawke’s hand was still warm when it hit Fenris’ palm, and it took everything in him not to tense up. He let his fingers slide between the mage’s as they walked. The farther they got away from the party, the more alert Fenris became. Less eyes meant more opportunity. Only when they were finally back to Fenris’ room did he start to relax again.
The sword was a bit much, he thought as he started to pick it up. He set it back down again, however reluctantly. Instead, he moved over to the bed and slid his hand under the pillow. From under it, he produced a knife. A long shot from his usual weapon of choice, but being friends with Isabella had taught him some good life lessons. One of those lessons was to always keep a knife close to your bed. Another lesson was how to use it.
Fenris strapped the knife to the back of his belt. Out of the way, and it was a nice enough weapon that it looked like it could have been part of the costume. Turning back to Hawke, he gestured at the door. “I’m ready to return when you are, unless you’d rather abandon the masquerade all together.” His suggestion said that he would welcome either.
Signature Defense (Cullen & Fenris)
Oh. So they were going to do this right here. Fenris supposed he could swallow the minor embarrassment at his horrible penmanship for this. He took the board, holding it up as if it were light as a feather. The book sat open on top of it and he went to work scratching his name onto the paper. Halfway through the N, he heard Cullen speak again. He tried to concentrate, frowning as the ink splattered with his clumsy handwriting. He still hadn’t gotten past the ‘it looks like a child wrote this’ stage.
“It is strange,” he started. He clenched his teeth, finishing off the S before continuing to speak. As he handed the board and book back, he looked up to meet Cullen’s eye. “To be treated like a guest of honor. I have never had that privilege. Though, I did intend to come talk to you about something that happened...”
Pausing, he looked down, trying to remember what it was he’d wanted to talk to Cullen about. Grunting, he shook his head. “It musn’t have been important, since it’s slipped my mind.”
{Event: Proper Introductions} [Fenris and Roshanak]
Fenris watched Roshanak with a raised eyebrow, wondering what was so funny. He tried to envision a rift exploding with the same reaction the Qunari woman’s hand had. Alright, that was kind of funny. He ventured a bemused smile.
“I’ve been near a rift,” he started, remembering the pride demon clawing it’s way out of the tear in reality. “But only close enough to slay the demons. I would not dare get close enough to touch it, if it really is an opening to the Fade.”
While the Inquisitor may have been unwilling to find out, Fenris wasn’t going to turn down the chance to cleave more demons in twain. “If you wanted to find out, I’m sure there are rifts in walking distance of this fortress. We could make it a day trip, back before dark.”
Event: Lost and Found [Fenris & Hawke]
“None of my enemies will venture this far South,” Fenris reminded Hawke. He kept his eyes peeled, glancing around them almost nervously. But, they were alone. He leaned into Hawke’s chest. For a moment, he let himself relax. Then Hawke spoke again, and he snorted.
“This place smells better than Lowtown,” he returned. Pulling away, he wrinkled his nose and rolled his shoulders, thinking it wouldn’t be a bad idea to case the party for suspicious individuals. He wasn’t entirely fond of the idea of splitting up for that, though.
“Let’s get our weapons.” he gestured to the nearest stairway. “Hopefully no one will be shortsighted enough to ask why. Then we can come back and see who doesn’t look like they belong here.”
Signature Defense (Cullen & Fenris)
After Cole came to him to explain about what happened between him and Fenris, Cullen was livid. He tried to hide it in his footsteps, though, taking a calming breath while counting in his head to keep his temper in control. Still, his fingers curled tightly over the soft spine of the book in his hand, the one Cole had been trying to get Fenris to sign for Cassandra, while the other held a ‘borrowed’ writing board from Josephine.
It was true that Cole could have gone about this better, much better, but that didn’t give Fenris the right to attempt to murder members of the Inquisition. Despite his oddities, that was what Cole was. On top of that, Cole had good intentions. He always did, and he didn’t deserve punishment or foul words for simply wishing to do something nice.
Tracking down Fenris, Cullen found him in the courtyards by the blacksmiths, sharpening his blade. It would be dangerous to approach while he had a weapon, but Cullen reminded himself that they had ended on good terms even if Cullen was currently angry at the elf. He took another deep breath, calmed his heart rate, and allowed an easy smile to take hold of his face.
“Fenris,” Cullen called as he approached. “I have a favor to ask of you. It’s for our favorite Lady Seeker. She’s a fan, you see.” He showed the book to him, hoping to display his point. “I’m trying to surprise her, and it would delight her greatly if you could sign it for me. You don’t have to, of course, but I would owe you one if you did.”
Fenris looked up mid-pass with the whetstone. He stared at Cullen, surprised that the commander was approaching him and not the other way around. Cullen was a busy man, after all. Curious, he tucked the whetstone into a pouch on his belt and stood up. His sword was left to lean against the stool he’d been sitting on.
“A fan?” he asked, looking down at the book. While normally it was just an inconvenience, sometimes he had to actually remind himself that Varric had written him into a now-famous book. Which meant sometimes he had fans. Nowhere near as many as Hawke, naturally, so it still surprised him when it happened. He supposed he could spare for a favor, but hesitated when he heard what it was. Still, he took the book and let it fall open to a blank page.
“I don’t carry around a quill and ink like Varric,” he joked. Part of him wondered briefly if that might be more true than he first thought. “We might be able to find one in the library.”
{Event: Proper Introductions} [Fenris and Roshanak]
What Fenris saw was the tall woman approaching with haste. Impressive, he thought, regardless of everything else that had just happened. It must help her, to be able to stand above the rest of a crowd so naturally. Qunari always had an imposing quality. Fenris admired that.
“Archanist?” He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of being studied. Not after that one Orlesian scholar offered to take him back to the university for ‘the sake of better understanding.’ But, he was starting to trust the Inquisitor’s judgement on agents and specialists (with that one exception).
“If you think she would be able to use that information,” he agreed. He wanted to know what had happened for himself, but he wouldn’t admit that out loud. “But there are probably more important things than experimenting on why we shouldn’t hold hands.”
Event: Lost and Found [Fenris & Hawke]
Being outside again lifted some of the tension from Fenris’ shoulders, but only in the sense that he now had more room to move and defend if the situation called for it. He really was missing his sword right about then. As Hawke pulled him in, he darted his eyes around to make sure they were alone. He met the mage’s eyes and held the gaze with a serious frown.
“It’s an Orlesean party. Of course there was bound to be an attempt on someone’s life.” Thinking back to the note, it said to tell no one. Which meant not even Hawke. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he was keeping that from his friend, but he tried to have confidence that it would be revealed later. “I saw someone with a knife. With how many people you have made angry, I figured it would be better to get you away from that.”
[Dust and Parchment (Aedan & Fenris)]
Fenris didn’t like the sound of things getting back up from the dead. If anything had ‘blood magic’ written all over it, it was that. Or necromancy, but shambling corpses were a little different if no less unpleasant. He tried not to make a face at the idea of someone having raised Corypheus with some sort of necromancy. He wasn’t very successful.
“I spoke to Cullen the other day, but not about the Venatori.” He remembered his loud entrance into the Commander’s office. Maybe if he’d been a bit more tactful, he might have had the opportunity to ask better questions. He then frowned, thinking about what the stranger had said about nothing ever being irrelevant. “Could the Venatori be related to this outbreak of red lyrium?”
{Event: Proper Introductions} [Fenris and Roshanak]
“I am alright,” Fenris assured, though he wore a frown of concentration. What exactly was that mark to cause such an explosive reaction? Maybe the rumors were true, that it was an anchor to the fade itself. Whatever it was, it was clearly highly magical and not something he should ever touch again. He met the Inquisitor’s eyes and asked with pure sincerity, “Are you?”
When their dance ended, Fenris pulled away to step back outside. He leaned against the railing, focusing on steady breathing to keep himself calm. He couldn’t remember the last time his lyrium markings had reacted out of his control. It left him shaken, concerned, and even a little curious. It was dangerous magic, but for once Fenris wasn’t jumping to the ‘blood magic’ conclusion.
Fenris flexed his fist. Looking over his shoulder, he wondered if the Inquisitor had followed him. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she hadn’t, he’d made a rather quick exit.
Event: Lost and Found [Fenris & Hawke]
Garrett tried to weasel out of the metaphorical doghouse with sweet words and cliche romantic sap that made Fenris want to roll his eyes. But he did have to admit to himself that this over the top, almost humorous apologetic attitude that Hawke took on when he knew he’d done something to earn someone’s ire was amusing to watch. For a few minutes, Fenris didn’t forgive him just to prolong it.
Eventually, Fenris did give in. He instructed Hawke with a quiet, “Stop talking,” low enough that it rumbled in his chest. He slipped a hand into the small hairs at the back of Hawke’s neck and pulled the mage down to--
Every muscle in Fenris’ body went on alert as he made eye contact over Hawke’s shoulder with someone in the crowd. There was a flash of metal--some sort of blade?--being tucked away. And then the stranger disappeared. Fenris had a suspicion that, had the stranger not been spotted, there would have been some attempt on Hawke’s life just then. He thought back to the note, currently sitting in charred bits in the bottom of a fireplace. So, it was true.
“Hawke...” he warned, whispering against the mage’s mouth. “Outside. Now.”
[source]
{Event: Proper Introductions} [Fenris and Roshanak]
Fenris chuckled quietly at the Inquisitor’s sarcasm. Whether she would admit it or not, she already seemed to have a natural capability to lead. A strong presence. Maybe that had come about from her position rather than the reason she had it in the first place, but it was impressive all the same. When she brought up her ability to close the rifts, he couldn’t hide his curiosity, even behind the mask.
“Yes, the mark on your hand...” He’d heard of it. How could he not? It was one of the biggest mysteries of Skyhold. Interested in seeing it at least once, he dared to take his hand off her waist to take up her hand. When the bare skin of his palm touched hers, there was a spark and a flash, and Fenris withdrew quickly. He stood still in the middle of the dance floor, staring at the Inquisitor.
There was a faint blue light emanating from the lyrium marks on his hand, fading as he watched. Then, careful not to come into contact with the mark again, he returned his hand to the Inquisitor’s waist. He started dancing again, but was clearly distracted. Whispering then so not even the other dancers might be able to hear, he said, “That was not what I expected. Forgive me.”
