Face the tiger

Hiatus as of 10/7//Indie RP blog for Fenris from DAII // Mun & Muse 20+ // Read the About and Rules before interacting

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[Erm anyways I’m officially going on hiatus because school is killing me] 

[PM me here if you want my dis/cord] 

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[Erm anyways I’m officially going on hiatus because school is killing me] 

[PM me here if you want my dis/cord] 

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It was warm, at least, in the tavern. Fenris found himself relaxing instinctually. The music was different than that in the Hanged Man, but there was something about the atmosphere in a place where people came to enjoy themselves and relax that... Well, helped Fenris calm down. His muscles loosened and he found himself letting the cloak open just a little.

This far from Kirkwall, it was possible that people wouldn’t recognize him as quickly. Of course, the hair and the sword together usually gave it away. Damn Varric for his book. Fenris couldn’t go two feet without someone asking if he knew the champion.

Fenris wasn’t instantly noticed, however, and he look a moment to examine the other occupants. No one he recognized, though there was a large Qunari in the back that made Fenris’s hands flex as he wanted to reach for his sword. 

It didn’t look like the Qunari had noticed him yet, though, and no one else was making a fuss over him so Fenris decided to do the same. 

What caught Fenris’s attention was, curiously, a young man sitting on the bottom of a set of stairs that led up to the other floors. Fenris found his curiosity growing and approached him cautiously, though he remained silent. 

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[ Slinks back on after disappearing] 

[ whoops ] 

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[ @fearsnothingness // Continued from X ] 

A slightly smug grin appeared on Fenris’s face as he adjusted his grip on his sword. The Venatori didn’t know who they had just pushed back into a cave, no doubt thinking Fenris and Sera were no more than common alienage elves. Well, they were about to learn different.

Much, much different. 

Someone in the cave, not one of the two, kicked a rock and sent it flying. Fenris lit his brands up and charged, shouting “Now!” as he swung. 

sera smiles cockily, tightening her grip on her bow and nocking an arrow, pointing it outward at the venatori agents surrounding them. at fenris’ command she lets one arrow loose, just as she nocks another and lets it fly, over and over she lets arrows go into the soft, fleshy bodies of the venatori agents.

“this is fun, yeah? killing baddies together.”

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“Yes, this is certainly how I wished to spend my afternoon,” Fenris replied, swinging his sword mostly to keep the Venatori at bay. With them distracted, Sera can easily pick them off and for all of her apparent scatter-brainness, Fenris trusts her with his back. 

It isn’t clear if he’s being sarcastic or not, but he certainly looks like he’s enjoying himself while he hacks and slashes at evil Vints. 

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Pacing back and forth in the living room probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but Fenris was too energetic to sit and too injured to do much else. So there he was, walking back and forth while he waited. 

Part of him knew that he should probably go to the hospital, that he needed to get his injuries actually looked at, but... well, that required driving. He wasn’t about to take public transportation in his state. Getting back home after the fight had been difficult enough.

Still, he didn’t really have a response for his partner’s question. Fenris winced and gave Cullen a weak smile.

“It is nothing,” he lied, knowing that his face was more bruise than skin at that point. Fenris didn’t lose often, but when he lost he lost. “Did you get the painkillers?” Fenris knew that he should apologize later for asking Cullen to get them for him at all, but there wasn’t really anyone else Fenris could ask.

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A pause. Fenris slowly shifted, looking back at Lyric. His tunic was curled in their fingers and he wanted to move away but didn’t want to upset them. So he just stood there, awkwardly looking at them but not really focusing on them at all. 

He swallowed. 

“If you are not busy, I thought perhaps we could speak... I have been thinking about what you said at the campfire.” It has been difficult to think of anything else, he thought. 

Though Lyric was a good friend and a close companion, someone he trusted deeply, he did not have any romantic feelings for them. He probably never would. They were much too young, for starters, and he was with Valeriu. Some part of Fenris felt like he should be flattered, but for the most part he was just confused and anxious about what this meant for his friendship with Lyric. 

[tess-mercer]

I just realized that most of the elves in dragon age are rogues or mages……and then there’s fenris double wielding a big ass sword out of spite & anger. I love him

[principessa]

[secretsandhushedwhispers]

An Unexpected Envoy || Closed

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It made sense that being in a relationship with Cullen would draw one closer to the Chant, even if ultimately you didn’t convert. 

“Near death experiences inspire many,” Fenris drawled, a small grin appearing on his face. He hoped that it didn’t come off as dismissive. He certainly knew that his life had been defined by the hardships he had faced. Without them, perhaps he would be a happier man but he would be a different one too.

“Most of my books are home, but I brought a few. You are welcome to look anytime.” Fenris mentally went through what books he had brought. He and Hawke had left much of their belongings back home, safe and secure with a local woman to watch over the cottage while they were gone. 

With Varric’s connections, Fenris was rather confident that their house would still be there when they left. And in one piece, which was important. Over the years, Fenris had learned more about how nice it was to have a proper place to sleep at night. That place was really wherever Hawke was, but Fenris would deny that if asked. 

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“Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?”

[ Sixty Ways To Say I Love You // Closed ] 

“You should not forgive someone who hurts you,” Fenris argued, crossing his arms even as he leaned against the wall. He had come to see if Cullen was close to finishing his work which, predictably, he was not. Now they were discussing what to do if Fenris betrayed him.

It wasn’t entirely a hypothetical. Fenris was still haunted by what had happened with the Fog Warriors. He supposed he always would be. 

“How you care for me is unimportant. If I ever raise my blade against you, assume it is to kill.” 

[pcrseverance-aa-deactivated2021]

Cullen set down his pen to frown at Fenris, finally reaching a point where the conversation exasperated him enough that even the absentminded scrawling of his name was too much to achieve. 

“You turn your blade to me and it means my best efforts to reach you have failed,” he informs him, “you turn your blade to me and I die loving you rather than live stopping you and you will always be forgiven.”

He picks up his pen again, drawing the next report in need of his approval closer.

“Please do not forget that.” 

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A moment. Fenris felt like his world had been upturned, like he suddenly had lost balance and was floating by the ceiling. He opened and closed his mouth several times, brain unable to process words properly. 

I die loving you rather than live stopping you.

I die loving you. 

What was he supposed to say to that? 

Fenris had never heard of someone putting their relationship above survival. Slave betrayed one another regularly in order to get even the slightest advantage or to gain the master’s favor. Even the Fog Warriors had eventually turned their blades against him, for all the good it did them. But to just give up survival... That was unheard of.

He had no response, just stood there dumbstruck. 

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“Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?”

[ Sixty Ways To Say I Love You // Closed ] 

“You should not forgive someone who hurts you,” Fenris argued, crossing his arms even as he leaned against the wall. He had come to see if Cullen was close to finishing his work which, predictably, he was not. Now they were discussing what to do if Fenris betrayed him.

It wasn’t entirely a hypothetical. Fenris was still haunted by what had happened with the Fog Warriors. He supposed he always would be. 

“How you care for me is unimportant. If I ever raise my blade against you, assume it is to kill.” 

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“They’ll come when they want,” Isabela said with a wave of her hand. She frowned, looking at Merrill carefully. “Are you all right, kitten?” 

Fenris glanced back at Merrill, taking her in for a second time. Now that his attention was drawn to her, it was obvious that she was distressed. Isabela looked concerned as well. Hardly surprising, since the two got along so well. 

[afirmbelieverinnopantsarchives]

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“You know drowning.” 

She says quietly, staring into her flagon. Not a question, but a statement of fact. In the low light of the tavern in the wee hours of the morning, the shadows dim her craggy face.

“People always think loud. Waving your arms around while you scream for help, breathing too quickly to take in enough air. You panic, and that pulls you under.” 

Bull takes a long, slow sip of her drink. 

“They’re wrong.” 

She says it airily, as if she’s debating the merits of a favorite hobby or two different ales. For her, this is a normal conversation. Setting her pint down, she fixes him with a knowing look.

“You’re silent. Your hands reach up, your feet kick out. Like you’re climbing an invisible ladder just out of your reach. When you see someone then, it’s only a matter of time. You can pull them to shore if you catch on, if you’re quick enough.”

The if hangs heavily between them. She lifts her drink for another sip, contemplating him, nonjudgmental. 

“Where did you serve? Not Alam.”   

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A moment. Not many people could recognize the way Fenris sat, the way he tensed when someone grew close, the way his back was to a wall and he could see all around by glancing at the bar’s back mirror. 

His hand was curled tight around his own glass, the swill low. He didn’t like getting drunk but sometimes he wanted nothing else. 

This stranger was quickly changing his mind.

“Seheron. You?” Fenris didn’t offer any details. He couldn’t tell, but the stranger... she didn’t seem like she was from Tevinter. And if she held any ill will towards Vints, well, Fenris didn’t want to get into a fight. He didn’t want to, but he could and one hand dropped to his side. 

His knife was strapped to his belt. In a single motion, he could be out of his chair and armed. 

He didn’t want to fight. He was sick of fighting. 

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Fenris and Cole

@lyriummarkcd The air was colder than it usually was, something about it making it uncomfortable for people to stay outside for too long. But that didn’t bother the spirit of compassion, as he sat on the ledge of the battlements, kicking his feet against the cold stone in some sort of pattern to help him focus. There was so much hurt in Skyhold, and he could feel others who were traveling to and from. It was a wonderful location to set as a base, and it wouldn’t be a repeat of Haven.

With the people inside for the most part, only a couple of guards passed by Cole, but that was fine with him. He helped in small ways, and they all forgot him when they needed to. It was how he liked it, because he helped. He’d never wanted it any different.

Thinking hard, the young man focused in on one individual, tilting his head in interest as he felt the pain inside him. Someone was close to the gate, heart heavy, skin bare to the chilled wind… Without another thought, Cole jumped down onto the tavern roof, heading to his usual spot on the third floor in hopes that the new person would come to him first. That way he wouldn’t scare the person like he had been.

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It was cold. Fenris, used to the warmth climates of Tevinter and Seheron and the more moderate temperatures in Kirkwall, had not prepared very well for Ferelden. He had especially prepared poorly for Skyhold, which was up in the mountains, and Fenris knew he was lucky that he had been convinced to wear shoes at the very least. He didn’t want to know what his toes would have looked like without them -- his fingers along were almost blue. 

He shivered as he made his way through the gates, bundled up enough so that his armor and tell-tale markings were hidden. Looking like any other elven refugee, Fenris found himself sheltered for the most part. 

A moment. He glanced about. Hawke was supposed to be here sooner or later. The only person who would know would be the one who had called him and so Fenris knew he had to find Varric. 

Where would that dwarf be? Fenris thought, trying to make sense of all the half-ruined buildings. His gaze landed on a building that seemed popular. Music and talking and cheering all escaped every time someone opened the door. A tavern. Of course. 

Pulling his cloak tighter around him, Fenris walked over. 

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Damn that dwarf, Fenris couldn’t help but think. He felt his hands curl and uncurl several times as he struggled to put his thoughts into concise words. While he may have been frightened of Pelle many years ago, back when he was new to freedom and even when he was still getting used to the idea of Danarius being dead, nowadays magic made Fenris uncomfortable more than anything else.

That didn’t mean he exactly liked being surrounded by it, but he was willing to endure it when he had to do so. 

"There are plans to attack Corypheus,” Fenris said. It wasn’t a question but rather a statement, something he knew from hearing the troops talk and listening in on the right bits of gossip that passed through the tavern. Even though Fenris wasn’t allowed in war meetings and Hawke was rather tight-lipped about the details, it didn’t take a genius to put it all together.

Well, that and the fact was that Hawke wasn’t very good at keeping things from Fenris. The two of them had learned that time and time again. 

“You’re taking Hawke.” Again, not a question. 

[afirmbelieverinnopantsarchives]

It’s like being a block of STONE with a sculptor working on you. One day, the last of the CRAP gets knocked off and you can see your REAL SHAPE, who you’re supposed to BE. 

(Forever thank you to @banalvhen for generously helping me wrestle with CS2, that old dinosaur of a Photoshop.