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peopleofthedas2011-05-07 07:03 pm
Aftermath
Length: ~ 1,200
Characters: Fenris and Danal Hawke
Summary: A peek into the thoughts of a certain Tevintar elf and a certain rogue after that first night together. Short enough to make it into my 'Random Bites' series. Their first appearance, but probably not their last. As always, comments/impressions/random thoughts are welcome. Enjoy!
Wind lashed at the windows, howled among the broken eaves, and whistled in the cracks between the ceiling and the outer wall. Fenris stared into the dark shadows flickering around the single candle on the table close to a fire burned down to near embers. He never should have given into the hunger he’d seen in Danal’s dark eyes, never given into the hunger climbing through his own flesh, bursting up from some deep well of need inside his soul. What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t, that was the point. Not with his head, anyway. He couldn’t remember desire like that; so intense it swept over you like a winter storm. And where had satisfying it left him, but abandoned on the empty shore of his own soul? But his need had gone deeper than mere lust. So had Danal’s. Fenris had seen that when the human asked him to stay, offered to help him find a way back to a past the elf wasn’t sure he wanted to remember, despite what he’d told the man.
Hidden things couldn’t hurt you as long as they stayed hidden. What might creep out of the darkness if he ventured there again?
Fenris slammed his fist against the wall, his breathing ragged and uneven, then he flattened his hand against the dusty plaster. In the dim candlelight, the lyrium lines on his skin seemed to glow ghost-white, tinged with blue, like the breaking edge of a dawn that never came.
What did the human see in him, beyond a slave running from his past? Fenris wondered what he saw in the human. Danal was a good man, a kind man. A man who’d also spent his life running, if for different reasons. So, they had something in common then. But it hardly seemed enough to tie them together, not for very long, anyway.
Fenris stared at the lyrium lines slicing up his palm. What did it mean to love? Did it mean caring for someone to the point that you were willing to put yourself at risk for them? To keep taking the risk of offering comfort when it might be rejected?
He sank to the floor, then leaned his head back against the wall. The feel of soft warm lips and gentle hands against his skin lingered in his flesh. Despite that Danarius had used him for relief, and passed him to others for amusement, it hadn’t felt strange to make love to Danal, a human male. There’d been an odd familiarity in it, as if sometime in his past he had known such tenderness. Perhaps, he had. And perhaps, remembering that would be a good thing. But Fenris wasn’t sure if he was ready to face that kind of memory, yet. When he did, though, he couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather take that risk with.
He pushed up to his feet, then stirred the fire into embers, scattering them across the iron grate. Sparks danced up, winking out in the darkness, while the coals slowly cooled. He watched them turn ashen grey, hiding the heat that lingered within. Then he turned, picked up the candle, and headed up the stairs.
######
Danal groaned and rubbed his eyes. Oh, that was bloody brilliant, Hawke. ‘It wasn’t that bad, was it?’ Maybe one of these days he’d learn to keep a leash on his sodding tongue.
He rolled out of bed, and glided to the window. It wasn’t raining, but the wind whipped around the house, howling like a mad spirit. It would probably be pouring by morning. At least he’d been able to convince Fenris to fix the holes in his roof, so the elf would have a dry place to live.
He turned back to the bed, and stared at the rumpled section where Fenris had briefly drifted off after they’d made love. Under that cool demeanor –well, cool until the subject of mages and/or his past came up – lay a very passionate man. All fire and heated kisses, and preferring to take the lead. Not that Danal minded that. He was flexible, in more ways than one. And if Fenris wanted to take control of the dance, he was more than willing to follow.
Danal sighed, and slipped back to the bed, settling on the side where the elf had lain. He ran his fingers over the pillow, then picked it up. Traces of herbal scent from whatever soap Fenris used still lingered. Danal buried his nose in the rumpled pillowcase, already missing him.
Oh, sod it, now I’m acting like a love-sick adolescent. Of course, being in love made you do things like that, and sent your world tumbling in a happy spin that left you breathless…if it didn’t break your heart, first. He knew enough about to love to recognize the real thing when it came along. The thing that lay buried in every lustful glance like a seed buried in the earth waiting for spring. And that was what Fenris was, he suddenly realized. A potential waiting to be born, even if the elf didn’t know it, or wasn’t sure what to do with, if he did.
Still holding the pillow, Danal gazed out at the vague night shadows beyond the window. He found it hard to picture Fenris as a meek slave, not thinking beyond his master’s needs. Stubborn, willful, and not afraid to speak his mind, how had he ever survived?
Danal put the pillow back in place, then lay down, his fingers interlaced behind his head as he gazed at a painting of the local shoreline on the opposite wall. No point in speculating on how Fenris had survived, it only mattered that he had. But there was more to life than just survival. And he wanted more than one night of passion with the man. He wanted a lifetime of such nights. Wouldn’t you know it, though? He had finally found someone he was willing to give his heart to, and the man could literally rip it out of his chest.
“Oh, Maker, that’s not funny, Hawke,” he murmured, laughing anyway.
Carver had demanded once, in a fit of temper over some incident Danal couldn’t remember, why he always had to make some smart-ass comment. ‘Because life’s too short to cry when you can laugh,’ he’d told his brother. Carver had thrown up his hands and tramped off. Danal sighed, then let the memory go, putting Carver to rest, at least for the moment.
He stared at the ceiling, remembering Fenris’ anguished face lit up by the soft light spilling out of the fireplace. I can’t…I can’t still echoed in Danal’s heart. He’d like to think that there was something he could have said for comfort, but there really wasn’t, was there? What kind of words did you dredge up for that kind of pain? For the kind of fear he’d heard in the elf’s voice. Those two always seemed to go together, didn’t they, fear and pain? Maker knows he’d seen enough of both in the last few years to last the rest of his life. Seeing them in Fenris, all Danal’s instincts pushed him toward helping the elf find a way past them.
A log on the fire burned through the middle and collapsed, sending up a shower of tiny sparks. Danal watched it burn down to embers, then turn ashen grey, though a glint of red heat peeked out here and there. From the feel of the night, he knew dawn wasn’t far off. He smiled. No matter how dark the night, dawn always came. Always.
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Yes, there'll definitely be more of these two. I think they're stuck in my head now.
(Love your icon, BTW)
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I do plan on finishing it. I just kind stalled on the plot arc, (as in I know what I want to happen, but haven't quite figured out the plot elements I need.)That, and all those pesky real life obligations.
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I definitely have more stories in mind, though they don't follow any partiuclar order. I don't want to re-tell the game plot. But all those open spaces of time between acts...so many possibilities.
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This sums up perfectly one of the things I think about Fenris: He found it hard to picture Fenris as a meek slave, not thinking beyond his master’s needs. Stubborn, willful, and not afraid to speak his mind, how had he ever survived?
I love your writing style, all the poetry you inject, but funnily enough this time it was the plain prose that caught me.
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I've found that contrast between what Fenris claims he once was and what he is very intriguing. There's definitely a story in that. *takes out chair to fend off the plot bunnies*
Glad you enjoyed it. :)
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I'd love to do some backstory on Fenris, though I'm not quite sure when I might get to it. (Have to finish up some other projects first). Stories seem to need to ferment in my sub-conscious for a while.
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