By Any Name | Fenris x Reader

By Any Name

          Fenris poured the last of the expensive wine into her glass before smashing the bottle against the wall. In (Y/N) Hawke's alcohol soaked mind she could only fleetingly muse over the fact, that she really should stop him from doing that so often. But they were celebrating. The Arishok was slain, the Templars and Mages seemed to be almost pretending to be, if not quite peaceful, more tolerant of each other at the moment. But mostly Fenris was free of his master, once and for all. It was a series of victories with little to no time to breathe in between. The Hanged man was overly crowded, and Fenris had promised good wine, if not good company to celebrate and relax for the moment. It was a big step for the two. (Y/N), being a mage had been a major conflict, and an apostate to boot, she had started with two strikes against her and she hadn't even spoken yet. 

          Slowly, very slowly they had worked their way through the tangled mass that had been there acquaintanceship. First to being able to be in the same room without glowing hands and fireballs at hand. Then gradually to sparing. Now (Y/N) didn't know if she could stand the idea of facing a battle without him watching her back. It's hard to believe that a man that she could barely trust to turn her back to was the man she wanted, no, needed to be by her side. She loathed to admit to herself that she had fallen for the curious man with so little backstory, and what he did remember was heartbreaking at best. She could never admit it, he'd never believe it. He still referred to her as Hawke, no matter how much she wished he wouldn't. It was the last of their formalities, but with it meant that there would never be a more intimate casualness to them. Everyone called her Hawke, but she wished desperately that just once he'd call her (Y/N.) Perhaps with the low velvety timbre that set her blood on fire, or the deep dark brooding growl that seemed to be the sexiest battle voice in all of Thedas.

          Fenris clearing his throat brought her out of her fleeting fantasy, causing a blush to spread over her cheeks. Damn that man.

          "What about your name?" Fenris looked puzzled. It took a moment to realize that y/n must have been mumbling about her musings, and the blush only deepened as she thought about what else may have slipped from her lips.

          "I was just thinking about how everyone calls me Hawke."

          "It's your name, isn't it?"

          "Yes, but it's my family's name. You could address my brother or mother as the same. But everyone else is on a first name basis." At this, her lips into the cutest pouty scowl she could muster.

          "Perhaps it's out of respect."

          At that (Y/N) couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled forth. "Respect? Isabela? I suppose that would explain Aveline, but Varric, or Anders? Even my brother now calls me Hawke, you know that's not out of respect."

          "Perhaps because of what a hawk represents then?"

          Now this caught (Y/N) off guard. What did he mean by that? It could go one of two ways.... Please be good. "And what do hawks represent?"

          He paused for a moment, and at this hesitation her chest deflated. She supposed she should be grateful that he thought highly enough of her now to choose his words carefully. A time not long ago he would not have been so considerate.

          "Hawks are resourceful, intelligent, and extremely protective. They guard what is closest to them with a fierceness that rivals a Great Bear. They are quick and graceful and in flight are beyond beautiful."

          ....Did he just... Does he think that.... Could he...? Her eyes shot up to his and her knees weakened. His eyes practically glowed with a heat she had never seen directed at herself before. In two steps, he was kneeling beside her, face so close that she could count the individual lashes framing his eyes. "Fenris.." Her voice no more than a faint whisper, a near silent plea before his lips met hers, just brushing ever so gently. Her breath hitched for just a moment and her eyes fluttered closed as her brought his lips back to hers. Their first kiss was tentative to say the least, but was enough for (Y/N) to forget how to breathe. She had kissed a few men back home, during the spring and fall festivals, but it never felt like this. The slightest graze of his lips could send small shocks of current running through every nerve of her body. Her left hand found its way to his cheek and the faint touch seemed to startle him into pulling back.