DWC: "What happened to you?"
Garrett Hawke x Fenris for @dadrunkwriting
Thanks for the prompt! ^_^
“Maker’s breath,” Anders gasps softly under his breath as he wraps a somewhat reluctant arm around and under the elf’s opposite to help bear some of his weight after he stumbles while the group is making their way back up to Kirkwall, as Hawke jogs to catch up with them. The healer’s fingers catching on something wet. Blood. “What happened to you?”
“A scratch, mage,” Fenris growls back at him dismissively, doing his best to worm his way out of the other’s hold, but finding himself frustrated by Ander’s wiry strength and his own sudden weakness.
“With a poisoned blade, I should think,” the healer guesses, earning a disgruntled huff from the other.
“Whatdoyoucare,” the warrior mumbles, only just catching himself as he stumbles again, before he’s forced to suffer the indignity of the mage coming to his rescue.
“I don’t much,” Anders replies, shaking his head, earning a fleeting frown from the leader of their group. “But for some reason, Hawke does.” Fenris hums what if he were in better shape would probably be a smart or scathing remark about the healer, and supposing that assessment makes sense. “So it seems it falls to me to help carry your sorry ass back and have you seen to.”
“Not sorry,” Fenris grumbles with a frown, earning a hearty chuckle from Garrett.
“Sorry Love,” Isabella laughs in a way that suggests she is probably anything but. “But I have to agree with Fenris. His ass is many things, but ‘sorry’ isn’t one of them,” the pirate smirks, making a point of looking the elf up and down as Hawke offers up his enthusiastic agreement.
“Oh get a room, will you,” Anders groans disgustedly as the elf he’s carrying coughs awkwardly, smiling, and blushing a little at the other man’s assessment. “If you two are so keen on him, why don’t one of you carry him?”
“That won’t hurt him,” Hawke asks uncharacteristically serious for a moment, looking the elf and healer over with concern.
“It’s a flesh-wound. The bigger concern is disinfecting it and an antidote for the poison. I can get those for him from my clinic a lot faster if I’m not lugging him with me.”
“Got it,” Garrett nods, quickly making his way over to the pair of them and easily taking the elf off of the other man’s hands. “Try not to swoon,” he smirks playfully, scooping Fenris up into his arms in a bridal style carry as they continue to make their way towards Darktown and Anders’ clinic.
“I’ll do my best,” the warrior replies with a faint smile through slightly gritted teeth as sweat begins to form on his brow from the fever that’s starting to kick in. “Try not to grope me,” he jokes, as the mage shifts his body to find the best position in his arms.
“I’ll do my best,” Hawke echoes with a soft chuckle. “But I make no promises.”
“S’alright,” Fenris slurs a little, suddenly feeling exhausted, wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck and curling his too warm body into his. “-Trust you,” he says softly. And funnily enough, terrifying as the prospect of trusting a mage would have been even a few years ago, fuzzy as his thoughts are becoming, he finds that it’s true.