(i made a valentine for jet)
Hawke nestles back against Fenris's scaly side with a contented little noise. Fenris wraps his long, scaled tail around Hawke, careful not to jab him with the spiked edge. He's always so gentle with Hawke; never forgets how much smaller, how much more delicate he is. He could easily tear Hawke to pieces in his sleep, just by a wayward twitch of his tail or his talon, but he's never given Hawke so much as a scratch.
"You know, I've always wanted to be a dragon," Hawke says idly.
Fenris makes a tiny inquisitive noise through his snout. A little tuft of smoke huffs out through his snout when he does. It’s adorable. Hawke toys with the idea of saying so. It might get him eaten, but then, Fenris hasn’t eaten Hawke yet, and it’s becoming less and less likely that Hawke will manage to cross the “more interesting alive than as food” line. Hawke grins at that thought, and snuggles closer against Fenris’s side.
"D'you think we could find a wizard who could make me a dragon?" Hawke asks.
The one who turned Fenris into an elf got eaten, and apparently the turning-into-an-elf thing was an accident, but the important thing is that there's precedent, and also, that Hawke really wants to be a dragon.
Fenris, whose eyes opened warily at the word 'wizard,' blows a pointed jet of smoke directly into Hawke's face.
Hawke coughs; splutters. He's dating the rudest dragon in the world. "That's a no, then?"
Fenris regards him impassively with those eerily green eyes of his. Go to sleep, he tells Hawke.
"I'd make a good dragon," Hawke insists, but even as he does, he puts his head down onto Fenris's feathered shoulder, rubbing his nose against it. Fenris smells like a bonfire, smoky and warm, homey and hazardous all at once. Fenris snuffles, hooking Hawke in a little closer with the smooth side of his tail. Maybe it shouldn't be so easy to fall asleep tucked against a dragon; Hawke certainly shouldn't feel so comfortable with him. Fenris is wild, dangerous; there is nothing Hawke could do or say that would tame him.
Still, settled against Fenris's side, surrounded and protected, with Fenris's warmth and familiar smell enveloping him, it takes no time at all for drowsiness to take him. He sighs contentedly, burying his face in Fenris's soft downy feathers.
Through his haze of sleepiness, Hawke can hear Fenris beginning to purr. Hawke falls asleep with a smile on his face.