At Your Side (A Dragon Age fanfiction)

The Worst Pies in Kirkwall

Fenris paced the rooms of the mansion restlessly. It had been a long night, and now the morning was stretching on. Soon it would be time to meet Hawke and her team at the Hanged Man. If he was going.

It was hard to fully process the change that had occurred in his life, literally overnight. Yesterday he had been at the end of his tether, ready to sell his life as dearly as he could just so he wouldn't have to run any longer. Then he'd found that a group of mercenaries had actually fallen for Anso's rather thin story. He hadn't dared to show himself during the ambush, but once he had removed the reinforcements—slowly, the dark making it easy to take them one by one—the larger main party of bounty hunters was neatly mown down. The woman leading the mercenaries was tall and capable and strong; how strong he hadn't realized until they were in the thick of the fighting in the mansion. He'd never been able to fight next to someone the way he'd fought next to her, their blades moving in concert.

It galled Fenris that Danarius hadn't been here after all, that his master was still out there ready to take him back. But he'd never had a position to fight from before, never had even the hope of an ally.

So now here he was, an empty mansion at his disposal, a message sent loud and clear to Danarius that Fenris was no longer to be trifled with, and a job at his fingertips, if he would take it. Darkly, Fenris pictured Danarius's face when he was told that not only had the entire team of hunters failed to return with his pet, his 'little wolf', but that they had all been killed. And then he pictured himself ripping Danarius's face off.

He shook himself out of the daydream. Satisfying though it was, it didn't answer the fundamental question: Would he join Hawke's team or not?

She had certainly saved his life. She had refused to take payment for the privilege of fighting bounty hunters on his behalf and demons at his side. She hadn't flinched at his markings. Fenris walked to the door of the office, ready to continue down the stairs and proceed to the meeting, but he stopped in the doorway.

She worked with a mage. More than one, if he understood her comments last night correctly. He supposed it was understandable that she could trust the breed, given that her sister was a mage, but the danger was there, lurking inside each of them. Could he fight alongside mages? Could he trust them at his back, allow their magic inside his skin, even for the purpose of healing? He turned, retreating into the room, holding on to the back of a chair in his indecision.

Hawke fought well. And he had heard about her, that she took on jobs other people were afraid to handle. If he worked with her he would be doing something worthwhile with his time, maybe even helping other slaves go free. If he didn't ... he looked around the room. There would be a lot of sitting alone, waiting for his chance at vengeance. Far less interesting. This time he made it to the landing before he hesitated, one foot on the top step, reconsidering.

He'd spent very little time around people since his escape. Did he know how to work as part of a team? Would his presence—bitter, mistrustful, angry—be a divisive force? Cause problems for Hawke? For that matter, would Hawke's presence cause problems for him? She was a beautiful woman. Generous, confident, her body's enticements noticeable even under her armor. Fenris would have to have been blind not to see them, and blind he certainly was not. Was he ready to be around such temptation? To take the chance of getting close to a woman like that, one so far out of his reach? He spun on his heel, rushing back toward the safety of his den.

But he halted before he could step back over the threshold. As vividly as he'd seen Danarius's face in his imagined revenge scene, he saw Hawke's blue eyes when she'd said good-bye the night before. Never in all his memory had anyone looked at him the way she had—in those eyes, he hadn't been a slave. Or an elf. Or a lyrium-marked freak. He'd been a man, like any other. And Fenris owed her for that single moment more than he could ever hope to repay. For that look, for the spirit that had given it to him, he could defy mages, people in general, and even his own heart.