Dragon Age: One Shots

Fenris x Male Mage Hawke- Recurring Nightmare

(Art by: @Danji on DeviantArt)

    He looked across the battlefield and seeing only death and destruction, pain and agony, panicked, frantically searching for any sign of Hawke. To his dismay, he found what he had searched for. If only he had listened, things might have been different. Hawke laid limp, a depiction of peace on his face, but his body laid defiled. His stomach was penetrated by a large spear, blood still dripping from the tip of it. His arms had fallen back, and his legs hung down, bent at the knee. Pure terror surged through him, hatred worse than any he had ever felt for Danarius. The cacophony of thoughts, always singing in his ears, rang louder than ever. Screams flew past unnoticed and anguish was distributed through the air as an overwhelming flash of metal.

    He awoke with a scream, tears pooling in his eyes. He desperately felt around the sheets for the strong arms that made this cruel and unfair world seem so safe, but he found nothing. There was no warmth and no Hawke. Suddenly he remembered that his husband was still in Skyhold, fighting in the name of the Inquisition. Inquisitor Lavellan had guaranteed his safety, which brought him no comfort, but knowing that Varric had faith in this woman did ease his aching soul ever so slightly.

    After calming himself the best he could, he decided to start his morning despite the lack of daylight. Checking for letters was the most excitement he had felt in a while, however only because Hawke had been sending him sweet messages, ensuring his safety and praising Fenris' handwriting. The letters were near symbolic:

One of the most pleasant memories he had ever made were of him and his paramour, huddled close, enjoying the slightly embellished details from The Tale of the Champion. At least Hawke enjoyed it, embarrassing himself by butchering complicated language wasn't his ideal date, but because it was with Hawke, it would suffice.

Walking to the table and collecting the recently delivered letters, he felt a grin creep up his face. Anticipation was killing him so he swiftly barreled to the closest chair, clumsily falling into it. He ripped open the seam, but not before admiring the red stamp on the front. He unfolded it and eagerly read the contents:

Dear Mr. Hawke,

(Such simple formalities painted a gaping smile across his face.)

I regret to inform you that our dear Champion has fallen for the Inquisition's cause. He did not die in vain. His sacrifice saved the lives of our Inquisitor and The Warden Commander.

I'll be visiting the first opportunity I get, please don't do anything rash. I know what Hawke would say in this situation, but it would likely be sarcastic and unhelpful. The last thing that left his mouth was about you. His intention was never to abandon you, I can promise that. I have everything under control, just worry about yourself.

Your friend, Varric.

Excitement had clouded his judgement and so he did not prepare for such a letter, he hadn't even noted the difference in handwriting. Nothing could shake him from his state of shock. His hands shook as tears smeared the ink across the parchment. His body seized in a series of tremors, and the only sound he managed to let out was a croaked scream. It was a scream of pure agony, the same he had released this morning. Every one of his fears had been confirmed. He had only lived with this information for a moment, but already all he wanted was for it to be over, for him to wake up. He would live every morning like this one, tormented by sweet memories and how new ones were unattainable. It seemed like he had laid there for a decade, wallowing in pain.

It had only taken a few hours, but he had already adapted. By numbing all of his feelings, he could save himself some suffering. He was completely stripped of the possibility for happiness anyhow.

They would answer for their crimes. They would understand what they had done to him. She would understand.

As he walked up the steps a cold breeze bit at his neck. Blood dripped from the ends of his cape and a completely blank expression sat across his face.

While he strode into the castle, he wondered if there was any truth to his recurring nightmare. They had a connection which was unbreakable by The Maker themself. He would be avenged, and then they would be together again. At peace, they would walk across blooming fields and discard all the burdens they had carried for so long.

The last words Hawke had communicated to him were "I am yours. Love, Garrett." in a fit of nostalgia. Now Fenris wished he had never learned to read so well.

If  you sacrifice Hawke with Fenris romanced... my wrath will be endless. Or just sacrifice Hawke at all because wtf